The Peace Not Promised
by Tempest Kiro
Summary: His life had been a mockery to itself, as too his death it seemed. For what kind of twisted humour would force Severus Snape to relive his greatest regret? To return him to the point in his life when the only person that ever mattered in his life had already turned away.
1. No Peace no End

**Chapter 1: No Peace no End**

"Look… at… me…"

Green eyes met black as Severus Snape took in one last shuddering breath. The final beat of his heart sounded loudly in his ears. He willed his last thoughts to be of what those green eyes invoked, memories that and brought him heartache and comfort in equal measure.

Eyes that belong to a woman who had once seen the best in him.

And a boy who was destined to die.

 _I failed her…_

That was the last thought that accompanied him into the darkness. That smothering all-encompassing darkness, where no light, sound or thought existed. He would be stripped away, his intelligence, his will, along with all the pain and regret.

Relief.

Or it should have been.

It suddenly all came rushing back, like breaking through the surface of water he awoke, alone and whole in the light. Snape gasped, scrambling to his feet, almost tripping on the hems of his robes. His body responded immediately, light and agile, unhindered by his years of neglect and physical wear. He stood, blinking, staring out into the vast expanse of white.

He breathed out slowly then no more, and then he understood he was dead. This was what was on the other side.

With a dark scowl Snape cast his eyes out at the silent white domain. If this was his hell then it couldn't have been more fitting. He couldn't think of a worse eternity than to be in a place devoid of all mental stimulation or distraction. Alone with only his thoughts.

He lifted his left sleeve, revealing the black stain upon his soul. The Dark Mark that he willingly took, a permanent reminder of the atrocities he cannot be forgiven for.

Did he not do enough? Was his remorse not enough to save him from his own mistakes? Was his sacrifice not enough to redeem him?

He roared into the silence, filled with frustration and anger. _Did I not do enough?_

Another voice pierced through the silence.

"Greetings Severus. I see that peace has not found you yet."

Had he a heartbeat it would have been sent racing.

"You're dead!" He hissed at the man strolling towards him, the figure who took the form of Albus Dumbledore.

"As I was last aware." The old Headmaster replied, smiling his aggravatingly serene smile.

Clad in his midnight blue Dumbledore stood before him, his hand no longer blackened and shrivelled by the curse that accompanied him into death. Because this was death, and Snape realised Albus Dumbledore might become his only company in this hell of eternity.

That was almost a relief.

Snape's scowl receded as he muttered to his dead companion. "I thought I could finally rest."

The Headmaster offered a comforting smile and told him. "You may." Then shook his head sadly. "But you won't." His piercing blue eyes stared right through the weathered spy whose mind shields rose upon instinct. "You cannot find peace within yourself because you are unable to let go of anything."

"Was death not supposed to take that from me?" Snape demanded.

Dumbledore gave him a sad smile. "If death was all it took to wash away regrets, then ghosts would not exist."

Fear pierced through him. Was that his fate? "I will _not_ become a ghost." Snape bellowed at the infuriatingly calm man who looked so nonchalant they might as well have been discussing the weather and not the possibility of eternal damnation.

"My dear friend. I would wish nothing more than for that to be so." Dumbledore told him in a quiet voice. "But you have laid those chains upon yourself. Wrapping it tight about you in life. How do you expect to be free of them in death if you do not let go?"

"Let go?" Snape rasped. "Were it so easy." The anguish of his remorse, the rage he felt to those that wronged him at every point in his life. The pathetic excuse of a life he led. To have faced all that alone. "You weren't there." He hissed at the headmaster. "My final year. What I had to do. What I endured for the sake of your _plan_. All for what? This is all I have to show for my efforts?"

Silence settled into the white world once more. With a gentle smile Dumbledore spoke to him in a quiet solemn voice. "I had just met the Lupins." Snape looked at him sharply. "Both Remus and his wife, Nymphadora."

 _So all the Marauders are dead._ _Good riddance._ He almost voiced the thoughtbut he could not find it in him to revel the triumph.

"Not just them." The old man continued, sorrow bleeding through his calm. "Collin, Lavender, Fred..."

Severus' heart dropped with every name. Students, past and present. Some he did not remember and those he was tasked with protecting.

"I am waiting for Harry now." Dumbledore finished, and Severus could not stop the rage from contorting his features.

"You sacrificed him you old fool! You don't get to feel remorse!"

Dumbledore's eyes softened. "Were there any other way Severus. You know I would have taken it. Neither of us could have saved him in the end."

"I did all I could do." Snape muttered, defeated. The rage bled out of him as the dread of failure pressed upon his still heart. A sad ode to his life.

Dumbledore nodded. "This time the blame is not yours."

The old Headmaster stepped around, forcing Snape's eyes to follow and to his surprise, arrived at a basin he had been certain wasn't there when he last looked. It was pure white and set upon a marble stand. A bleached replicate of a Pensieve dish.

The surface rippled and memories bubbled up from the liquid. His own memories. Dark ones of abuse, of isolation, of soul crushing loneliness.

But then a glimmer of light, a girl's smiling face shone up at him, green eyes glimmering in delight.

 _Lily…_

His heart clenched at the memory of the one person that made his life have meaning, along with the regret that would define him as a human being.

And then her eyes turned sad, and he could not watch any longer.

"What is this?" Snape growled. "I do not need reminder of my failures."

"Failures, Severus?" Dumbledore shook his head. "These are your regrets."

"No difference."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I beg to differ Severus."

The Headmaster stepped around the basin, watching those private memories with seemingly unaffected eyes, then spoke softly. "Love is a mysterious thing. As is death. Things that the Department of Mysteries dedicated itself to solving, and yet still find themselves flummoxed after all that effort."

Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes lifted from the Pensieve. "Time too is such a mystery."

Snape frowned, his sharp mind barely following Dumbledore's vague words, willing him to just get to his blasted point.

The Headmaster smiled his twinkling enigmatic smile. "Your regrets chain you to the living Severus. And while that may be the last thing you want it puts you in an interesting position. Because your deepest most desperate regrets are from a time so long ago."

"Am I to be trapped in my past?" Severus whispered, the idea too horrifying to speak aloud.

"Not trapped." Dumbledore offered gently. "You should never think of living as akin to being trapped."

Severus frowned. "Live?"

"Well you certainly can't be a ghost during a time when you're very much alive." Dumbledore smiled.

Severus frown deepened as what he was told formed his horrifying conclusion. "You're sending me back to relive my regrets?!"

 _No…_

Upon the Pensive, Lily's scornful eyes turning from him as if he did not exist.

 _No._

Watching her hold hands with Potter, by the edge of the Great Lake.

 _No!_

Her scream, as the Dark Lord struck her down, and she crumpled to the floor lifeless.

"No!" Snape roared. "I will not! I cannot…" He grit his teeth. " _Live through that again._ "

Dumbledore regarded him sadly once more. He waved his hand over the basin and the final image of Lily faded. "What if I were to tell you, that not all of that needs to be." The image returned, of the scorn filled Lily, staring at him, unmoving upon the surface.

"If the loss of her friendship was the only regret you needed to relive."

Snape stared upon that painful image, eyes widening.

"Everything else would be up to you."

Black eyes narrowed as he regarded the crafty old Headmaster. "If I am to erase my regrets to just the one then no matter the outcome, there will be no chosen one."

Dumbledore smiled. "And in that you are unique Severus. To have the intelligence and cunning, skill and will, to be able to use the weapon I hand you."

Withdrawing a wand, the old wizard pressed the tip to his temple and withdrew a silvery thread of memory. The strand landed shimmering into the Pensieve, blurring that one memory of Lily still displayed. Images flashed to the surface, a quick succession of pictures that even Snape's sharp eyes couldn't discern.

"Information." Dumbledore smiled as the memories stopped upon a still image of a ring set with a heavy black stone, held between two old and weathered fingers. Poised to slip it upon his left hand along with the curse upon his form. "A weapon most useful in the hands of a Slytherin."

"A weapon also most useful in the hands of a man with power." Snape growled. "Need I remind you at that time I was nobody."

Dumbledore did not seem phased. "Indeed Severus, so I think you know what you must do."

Bring this knowledge to Dumbledore. The still living Dumbledore of his time. To pledge his service once more.

For the chance to save Lily.

"I will do what it takes." He almost whispered.

The Headmaster smiled. "Most Commendable. Then I leave you with one last gift." He took the wand to his temple once again and dropped another strand in. The memories swirled quickly once again but did not stop and distinguish themselves. "So that you may know you are not alone." Mismatched grey and black eyes graced the surface of the Pensieve, staying just long enough for Snape to register the image.

"Go now Severus. And Good luck."

Without awaiting instructions Snape stepped forward and plunged his face into the Pensieve. The world shifted and he was falling.

Falling…

* * *

" _You Killed her!_ " A young man screamed, his form an indistinct shape.

" _It wasn't my fault."_ A second blurry man insisted. _"If only you hadn't-"_

" _Gellert. Please."_ A third voice, spoken as if from his own mouth.

That was the bizarre dream Snape awoke to. One he did not understand but knew intimately as one of deep regret and sorrow. He lay there sweating, heart racing from regret that was not his own.

But the fact that his heart raced meant his heart was beating.

Snape sat up with a gasp, the movement caused a smart of pain he could not identify. He held his hands up in front of his face, flexing his fingers. His nails were cropped short with sharp corners and rough edges bespeaking of ill-maintenance, but uncracked, not yet flaking and mostly unstained. His fingers, while thin and callused, were not yet roughened by his years of dedicated potion brewing, not yet scarred by his many brushes with his silver knife, and not yet lined by age.

He lifted his sleeve and his heart leapt to his mouth. His arm, skinny and pale, but unadorned by his greatest folly. No grotesque skull face grinned back at him, no reminder of the gravity of his sins. However even as that thought graced his mind he seemed to still feel it, like a phantom limb. It was branded upon his soul, like so many of the ill choices he had made.

Snape brushed the deep green curtains aside on his four poster bed, realising with little to no uncertainty he was in the Slytherin dorms. That meant he was still of school age, but which year?

Stepping quietly down from his bed, feeling the chill of the stone floor upon his bare feet, Snape crept to his bag. He could not find his wand beneath his pillow, a place it would eventually be kept during his attempts to sleep. That meant he was still of an age where he had not yet developed his paranoia.

His hands closed around the smooth and familiar ebon handle, feeling the relief and reassurance of familiarity. With a quick silent flick he pulled the wand free of his bag and cast before him a time keeping spell.

 _Five in the morning._ He thought as the numbers materialised before his eyes. _And the date is?_ He swished the wand again.

Snape sat back as the numbers formed before him, feeling numb inside. It was the sixth day of September, 1976. Almost a week into his sixth year at Hogwarts. An entire summer after when Lily last spoke to him, and would never speak to him again…

Sweat broke out upon Snape's brow, suddenly it felt as if he were suffocating.

* * *

Cold running water streamed around his ears. Snape held his head under a running faucet, his pulse throbbed in his ears, slowing as the cool water took away his anxiety.

 _She's alive._

He turned the handle slowly easing the water away. He withdrew dripping as he straightened to level with the mirror, looking himself in the eye.

 _She's alive. And don't you forget it._

A young familiar face glowered back at him. His eyes were not yet lined but were naturally deep set, giving his already dark eyes a sinister look. It was perhaps the only thing resembling a redeeming feature on his otherwise regrettable face.

He bared his teeth, crooked, as they continued to be later in life, but at least they were unstained as of yet from the years of abusing Potions of Dreamless Sleep that was soon to follow. His hair hung sodden around his ears, clumped together from the moisture and undoubtedly the grease he could not escape from in his youth and more often than not, his adult life.

His thin sallow face pulled the skin around his cheekbones, making his already prominent nose seem comically ill-fitting. He could see his tattered nightshirt hang off his thin bony frame, his collar bone sticking out of his frayed collar, he could imagine the ribs that must show beneath. His entire physique bespoke of poor nutrition, a very believable outcome of being two months away from Hogwarts. He was never adequately fed at home, and even less so during his rebellious years.

 _Why did I ever think there was anything I could offer her?_

He was as hideous as they got, and he had the misfortune of knowing age would not improve him. He hunched over and balled his fingers into fists against the sink, knuckles going white as the skin stretched taught against the bone. The movement pulled his ill-fitting nightshirt up along his back, setting off a dull stinging.

Suppressing a sigh Snape lifted up his shirt and turned his back against the mirror, already knowing what he would find. It appeared he was sent to school with quite the thrashing.

Angry red welts stretched across his back, dull pain singing in vivid memory of the abuse. Blood seeped slowly from the scabs that formed from where the blows caught against the bony jags of his spine, turning into deep gouges down his back. He must have been belted, quite badly at that. He could not fathom how he could have allowed his father to do that to him. Had he not yet figured out how the trace worked? Did he not even try to defend himself?

Matching stains were on his nightshirt from where he pulled the shirt and unstuck it from his cracked wounds. It couldn't have been less than a week since he got his beating yet he had not healed sufficiently enough for the scabs to stop oozing.

He actually could not remember how this beating came about. It had been a long time ago, and his mind had been preoccupied with matters of greater importance since. He did however remember stealing tonics from the infirmary, in his youth he hadn't had the patience to recover on his own. His body had been sickly during this period of time, and every recovery he tried to make without aid from magic, be it injury or illness, took an irritatingly long time. And this was the type of injury he could not find himself ever going to Poppy for.

 _No. Madam Pomfrey._ He did not have the right to be on a first name basis with the adults at this time. Perhaps not ever.

Snape pulled his shirt back down, hiding the pathetic reminder of how miserable his life had once been.

No. Is now.

This was his life now. His frail, ugly sixteen-year-old self.

With a shudder of self-loathing he stepped out of the bathroom, not even bothering to dry off, allowing his hair to drip and soak through his thin shirt.

When Snape reached his bed he found his school robes sitting folded on his trunk. The House-Elves laundered it every night since he only had the one set. It was already frayed and threadbare from its repeated usage, repair and lengthening spells.

He stripped off quickly, stifling a hiss from his scabs getting torn open again and wrapped himself as quickly as possible into his school robes. He didn't need anyone waking up and seeing his bare torso. He knew for certain at this age he would react with no less self-consciousness, in this respect not much had, or would ever change. He loathed attention, and would never suffer the pity of others.

As he belted his robes, a white sheet of folded parchment caught his eye. It was sitting on the trunk, hidden under the robes. Undoubtedly his sixteen-year-old self had left it in his robe pocket when the Elves came to call, and as a result it was returned neatly along with his robes.

Snape unfolded it, feeling the weight of quality parchment, knowing this was a parchment that could not belong to him. Elegant slanted writing met his eyes, and even without a signature he knew exactly who this was from.

 _My Dear Severus._ He actually read it in Lucius' obnoxious lilt.

 _While I do not doubt your commitment to the cause, there are certain requirements I need of you. I know firsthand of your unique talents but I am not the only one you need to convince. You will need to send me something to present as a demonstration of your worthiness._

The letter ended abruptly with no closing, reading more like a memo than a letter. Yet he had held onto it in his youth.

Snape remembered this, it was his first step towards initiation. He received the letter during the first day of his sixth year. If this was as how he remembered it, then he had not yet replied. No matter how eager he was that was not how Slytherins respond.

With a flick of his wand his copy of 'Advanced Potion-Making' flew from his bag, as worn and tatty as he remembered it. A familiar piece, the sanctuary of his mind. The solitary source of comfort in this trying time. With a gentle caress he cracked opened the ancient textbook. 'Property of the Half-Blood Prince', read the front page and suddenly this one memory of comfort fell to ash upon his mind.

Because it was this toxic way of thinking that lead him astray, this idea of ' _I am at least still half a Prince!'_

With a bitter scowl he turned the page, no longer feeling the comfort this book had offered. He turned to where he knew the spell would have been scribbled in the corner.

That corner of the book sat blessedly bare.

That was the spell he had presented, the spell that Lucius had determined meant he was worth the effort of grooming into a presentable state. He poured every waking moment into it, refining it, perfecting it in his haze of anger and hatred.

Because that was all his life was at this time. Boxed in from all sides, unable to find refuge at home or at school. Forced to face the demons of his life alone.

Because he pushed away the only person who ever gave a damn.

It was little wonder he held onto this letter like a lifeline. A hope for a brighter future. A place where he mattered.

A decision he would regret bitterly.

 _Incendio!_

The letter caught aflame, shrivelling into blackened shreds as it drifted to the floor. A faint smell of smoke settled in the dorm room as Snape blasted it away with a silent gust of wind, crumbling it into fine ash.

He has since faced far worse in solitude. He was no longer that pathetic boy.

* * *

Too early for breakfast to begin, Snape slunk into the Great Hall. His stomach was already a gnawing great pit. It was a strange feeling to have an appetite again.

He hesitated at the doorway, eyes drawn towards the High Table, towards the seat that had been his for the past seventeen years of his life. A seat he'd had for longer than the years he would have already seen in this body's lifetime. That was a strange thought.

With deliberate effort Snape dragged himself to the Slytherin table and sat on the corner-most seat closest to the high table. He needed to catch Dumbledore's eye and unless he was relying on a lucky random encounter in the hallway, the Great Hall was the most efficient place to establish first contact.

After several minutes of sitting in stewing silence the first students began arriving. Ravenclaws were the first to find their seats, the over eager over achievers they are. Already noses in their textbooks and debating loudly and heartily across the empty table on whatever feckless thoughts they had on the already established magical theories. A small cluster of Hufflepuffs entered then, first years by the size of them, looking nervous and lost. Floating alongside them was the Fat Friar, no doubt finding those eager little first years lost in the hallways and shepherding his little badgers to where they needed to be.

Food began to materialise then, little spots around where the few scattered students sat. A large dish of bacon appeared before Snape whose stomach growled fiercely in response but he instinctively avoided it and reached for the toast.

In his older age he had found a lessening ability to tolerate heavy fare in morning meals, though it had not been an issue in his youth. Instead it would be spots and oil-based breakouts he had to contend with at this age, when he actually had adequate intake of nutrients to speak of. With hindsight and the self-control that came with age he could at least save himself from that discomfort. Dry toast and porridge was more than adequate for a morning meal. Perhaps a little egg as well, he was in desperate need of protein.

Arranging his breakfast neatly on his plate Snape took a sip of his porridge, edging off his hunger slowly before proceeding to neatly fold the scrambled eggs and crop it into manageable pieces. The House elves always managed to make them equally fluffy and firm.

But then the Gryffindors began arriving and breakfast was quickly forgotten. Snape hunched over his plate, frozen. His eyes flickered desperately amongst the red emblems. Searching desperately for a glimpse.

Just a glimpse…

"You feeling alright there Snape?" A voice asked from behind just before a body settled onto the bench beside him. Turning with a scowl Snape met the weasel face of Alexander Avery, his year-mate and fellow future death eater.

"Never better." The young Potion Master answered in his smooth low-pitched voice and returned to meticulously folding his eggs onto his fork.

From across the table Owen Mulciber dropped heavily onto the bench and pitched in. "You're usually not stuffing your face so daintily. If you ain't sick why yah eating like a princess?"

Apparently the usage of cutlery was suspect, what kind of a course cretin had he been that table manners were call to query?

"Focus on your breakfast and less on mine." He could not help but be snappy, not the right tone to take with Mulciber. The larger boy bristled and pressed forward menacingly and Snape had the foresight to avert his eyes in a show of submission.

During his school years Mulciber had been the top dog. He was bigger, stronger and from a good pureblood family. It didn't matter he was as dumb as a pile of bricks, at least not to children, and not in the pit of snakes where the weak would find no support save from submitting to the strong.

And Severus Snape had been weak.

Appeased, Mulciber leant back, and completely skipped over the cutlery as he reached over and grabbed a handful of bacon. Without even so much as touching the plate Mulciber shoved it between two slices of toast and straight into his face.

Snape watched the display with muted disgust but he did not wear his thoughts on his face for any fool to see. He quickly turned away before his stomach could be turned and was pleased to see Avery at least was using some semblance of manners to handle his food.

The squirrelly boy met his eyes and said, "Before I forget. I left your Transfigurations homework on your bedside table. I didn't copy it word for word this time."

Snape nodded, scowling on the inside. Apparently he had participated in this deplorable behaviour of homework sharing in his youth. It was not a memory he kept into adulthood and the idea of it made his inner-Professor cringe.

Turning away he focused his attention to the High Table, watching the Professors arrive and take their place. Minerva, Professor McGonagall now, with fewer greys in her hair but no less stern of a look, took her place in the centre of the table beside the empty throne that was Dumbledore's seat.

She had been the one Professor that Snape had respected the most. And yet her parting words had been to accuse him of cowardice.

A testament to the legacy he had left.

The Head of Slytherin, Horace Slughorn waddled in and settled his sizable frame into the seat that overlooked the Slytherin table. A seat that had been Snape's before he took the Headmaster's throne.

And almost as if summoned by his dark thoughts, Albus Dumbledore drifted through the doors, garbed in sparkling lavender. The Once-Usurpers' eyes followed him as he passed Sprout and Kettleburn exchanging greetings and pleasantries, before settling into the throne that was always meant for him.

He never once looked Snape's way.

"God look at those offensive robes." A stifled mutter came from across the table. "The days of the Dark Lord is just a matter of time."

Snape looked sharply at Mulciber who without swallowing the bite already stuffed another bacon sandwich in.

A light unassuming voice spoke. "I'd watch your overeager tongue if I were you." The large boy turned sharply, his intimidating glare not taking the same effect with his bulging cheeks. Evan Rosier, took his seat lightly across from Snape, his heavy-lidded eyes set his face in a permanent expression of boredom. With money and looks and his father in the Dark Lord's good graces he was the only one of them who did not have to fear Mulciber. "Remember, the portraits have ears."

"Portre's can stuffit" Mulciber returned, spraying grease and crumbs.

Snape lowered his gaze to his half-eaten breakfast, unwilling to meet the headmaster's eyes under the scrutiny of the far cleverer Rosier. He would need to approach Dumbledore a different way.

"Alright there Snape?" Rosier inquired, more out of politeness than actual curiosity. That was one thing Snape always liked about him, he was cordial to everyone.

Even those he was about to murder.

"I'll live." Snape offered, eyes meeting those of the soon-to-be Death Eater's, then widened.

From across the hall, a flash of dark red caught his eye. He could not help the hitch of breath, nor the sudden pattering of his heart.

 _Lily…_

Alive.

Her hair fell about her shoulders like dark red silk. Her eyes, such a lively bright green that he could see them sparkling even from across the Great Hall. She smiled and it seemed the morning light shone brighter in response.

"Oh no he's at it again." The snarky voice of Avery yanked him back to reality. Snape glowered at those he once called friends, who rolled eyes and muttered unkindness behind his back. He hunched back over his now cold plate, appetite surprisingly still present, and grudgingly spooned his breakfast into his protesting stomach.

With casual observance Snape looked back, likely fooling nobody. His heart sank to find her seated squarely beside the enemy. The bile of hatred rose as he spotted the smiling arrogant face of James Bloody Potter, chattering to her, laughing away like she already belonged to him.

She couldn't have. Not yet surely. They started dating in their seventh year, Snape could remember it clearly. It was hard to miss the squawking titters of gossipy Gryffindors, and it was harder yet to forget the heartbreak he felt.

He was to watch it all happen again.

Standing suddenly, able to stomach his food no longer, Snape excused himself. He was met with a few snide looks but he didn't care.

Exiting the Great Hall, he took off sprinting down the hall, stopping only when his sickly body gave out and he leant gasping against a pillar.

This was his reality. Knowing what was going to happen, and being unable to do anything to stop it.

She would never speak to him again.

He balled a fist against the cool marble pillar, biting back the gasps of breath lest they become wracking sobs.

 _But she's alive._

The thought darted across his mind. His breathing calmed.

 _She has a chance to be happy._

He straightened, arms falling to his sides as he let out an unsteady breath.

 _She has a chance to live._

Snape looked up out through the hallway window and cast his gaze out onto the dawn-touched grounds.

He would bear it all to reduce all his regrets to just the one.

* * *

A/N: Hello dear readers. Here is a 'Snape relives his past' type of story with eventual SxL. There are many just like it but this one's mine.

Edit: My thank you to MrsNanna for helping me with a post-production beta read and edit.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way from this fanfiction.


	2. Duty of Regret

**Chapter 2: Duty of Regret**

Defence Against the Dark Arts was the only class Snape had ever actually wanted to teach, and a class that he had taught most competently.

Now he had to endure it as a student. Again.

Snape couldn't remember which seat he would usually claim as his own but he got the distinct impression it was not at the front. He had already gone through this very conundrum in Ancient Runes first thing this morning and chose the back most window seat. A Hufflepuff had thrown him a dirty look and Snape sent him scampering with a well-placed glower.

In this class at least the would-be-once-student had some people he could use as a guide. Mulciber slouched into that seat in the corner most of the back row and Avery took the one directly to his front. Rosier took the back row seat by Mulciber and Snape assumed the seat by Avery was his.

With his schoolbag set atop the desk Snape placed his wand beside it. He didn't have a holster for his wand at this age so if he wanted his wand handy he simply had to hold it. He had pockets that were deep enough but they were so worn it made him nervous to carry this precious cargo, lest it dropped through without his notice.

Then she entered.

He thought he had been prepared for it.

Snape averted his eyes as Lily took her seat at the front, but not once had she looked his way.

 _She's alive._

He had to keep reminding himself to ease the pain. He had no right to feel upset. After all was she not right in the end?

He was to be the death of her.

A middle aged witch materialised from the side door, it was probably safe to assume she was the Professor for the class this year. Snape let out a slow pent up breath. Class was to start, and no matter how easy the subject would be for him he at least got something to focus on.

"Ok class." The bubbly voice of the Professor called out, settling the class. Snape could barely remember her, she was a blur amongst the many faces that whisked in and out of this department. "My name is Annabel Leafley, but you may call me Professor Leafley." _Oh god a friendly one._ "As you remember from the beginning of year feast-" _barely,_ "-your old Defence teacher Professor Vakes came down with a bout of Dragon Pox in the Summer." _Not even the barest hint of an impression._

Before she could continue the door down in front was yanked open and a quartet of students poured through. Marauders. A rush of hatred boiled through Snape, he was not even surprised to see they were tardy.

"Oh more students. Well find your seat please." Professor Leafley didn't seem the least bit phased by the disrespect shown to her. Had they been late to Snape's class he would have gladly docked their points into the negative and given them a month's worth of detentions. Had he the power now…

He averted his eyes, fuming at how pathetic he was. He actually thought of Professorial power as real power.

"Now I don't think we need the little preamble into the topic. I'm sure by sixth year you'll all be well aware how important Defence is." _No introduction? Sacrilege!_ "We'll just dive right in to our first lesson. Wordless defensive spells, starting with the Shield Charm." With a satisfied frown Snape remembered that was indeed the first spell he had taught on the first day to sixth year too. Perhaps Professor Leafley actually had some idea of what she was doing.

"Ok students. All stand." Snape sluggishly complied, the Marauders hadn't even found their seats. With a silent wave of the wand the desks parted, leaving the middle clear for practice. "I want you all to find a partner and practice the spell, with one party casting the Knockback Jinx, _gently,_ and the other party try to parry it with a wordless Protego."

 _Trivial._ Snape thought as he parried the knockback Avery sent his way with a simple flick of his wrist. But what did he expect really? He was taking a sixth year Defence lesson, he was not going to be challenged. Avery fired off another much stronger knockback jinx with a great cry of "Flipendo!" and without even acknowledging the effort Snape brushed it aside again.

That caught the attention of those around him, when a bellowed spell didn't cause him to careen across the room and into the tables stacked to the side. Snape glanced around the classroom, meeting the eyes of his staring peers, forcing each of them to drop their gaze.

Until he met those green ones, and wished desperately they didn't look away.

"Oi Snivellus. The lady doesn't want your greasy nose sticking in her general direction."

James Bloody Potter. If looks could kill it would have done him a favour. The glower he sent the boy could have inverted his arrogant smirk and punched his stupid perfect teeth through his skull.

"That is some impressive display." That bubbly voice sounded right at his shoulder. Had he been anyone else Snape might have jumped, but as a seasoned spy he simply scowled in surprise. The Professor had appeared at his side, seemingly materialising from the walls. "I don't think I've ever seen a student your age master wordless shielding as effortlessly as you have. Ten points to Slytherin." A small whoop came from the small cluster of greens in the corner, the Slytherins that proclaimed to be his friends in this period of his life, looking so pleased with themselves as if they had somehow contributed to this gain. And as if this somehow this had impacted their lives at all.

Professor Leafley clapped her hands. "Now switch around, everyone gets a turn in practicing the shield charm."

"Flipendo." Snape muttered unenthusiastically, knocking Avery stumbling and sprawling flat across the floor.

"Gently!" The squirrelly boy hissed, dusting himself off as if attempting to shed his embarrassment.

"That was gentle." Snape muttered, nearly rolling his eyes.

Before he could try again however, a Knockback Jinx blasted into him from behind, knocking him to his knees and setting his tender back aflame with burning stinging.

Scowling Snape struggled to his feet, his dark eyes drew to the forms of Black and Pettigrew, doubled over each other laughing. That wretched halfbreed Lupin couldn't hide his smile either, standing just behind them, pretending he had no place in the matter. And in the centre of them all stood Potter, wand pointed, arrogant smirk plastered across his face, so pleased he had caught his Slytherin victim by surprise.

It was harmless compared to what the Marauders were capable of, what Snape knew they were capable of. Even in his previous life their actions against him had petered off in severity since his fall out with Lily. No doubt Potter had achieved what he had aimed to, eliminating Snape from Lily's circle. That was all Snape ever was, an obstacle for that arrogant boy, something to grind into the dust for daring to stand between him and his object of fancy. And true to spoilt child form he coveted the only girl who didn't throw herself at him, wearing her down until she fit that mould he desired.

Enraged, Snape swept his wand sharply across, sending a powerful wordlessly cast knockback shockwave right into that arrogant prick. Potter waved his wand in a feckless attempt to wordlessly block, but to no avail. Snape's spell blasted through his flimsy shielding spell sending him flying into his friends. Black was quick to react, sidestepping out of the way as Potter flew past, catching the rat and the werewolf and sending all three tumbling into the desks.

Green eyes met black ones again as Lily's outraged expression killed any sense of enjoyment Snape might have gotten from this. Why was he made to feel like the villain? He was giving tit for tat.

Black snarled, wand out. Snape returned his glare with a bored, dismissive expression. Nothing would give him more pleasure than to thrash the Marauders publically. He itched at the thought, the desire to take his tormenters apart, to put the force of his vast power and experience to bear. At this age they would not even be a challenge. He would _destroy_ them.

But those green eyes met his, giving him pause. He wouldn't be the first to attack. He won't be the bad guy.

 _But that won't impress her._

 _Why am I still trying to impress her?_

 _I've lost._

Black snarled a hex and Snape swept it away like it was a bothersome fly. He would be well within his right to retaliate.

But those green eyes won't let him.

They were watching him.

Judging him.

"I thought you were meant to be smart Snivellus." Potter untangled himself from the assorted arms and legs of Pettigrew, Lupin and the tables. "But it seems you still haven't learnt your lesson." Snape's hateful eyes met those contempt filled hazel ones. With a cruel sneer Potter spat. "And I had thought I had given the lesson so well by the lakeside."

It all rushed back to him, his humiliation. A memory that was never too far away. A memory that was still fresh in the minds of all those who stood here. Cruel sniggers arose around the classroom and Snape felt his rage aflame.

"Settle down class." Professor Leafley tried uselessly to diffuse the situation.

He had not felt the desire to break all promises to the light as badly as he did now. No amount of suffering he endured could equate to the hatred he felt for this man before him. The darkness whispered to him.

 _Strike him down_.

 _It would be no more than he deserves._

He gripped his wand so tightly he felt his knuckles pop.

 _I killed you once._ He thought, savouring the memory of James' death. Of his own sweet role in it. Feeling with horror as the memory turned bile in his mouth.

Because he had killed Lily with that very same stroke.

He felt the guilt choking him. It was not the memory he wished to invoke.

Green eyes met his in that moment, that terrible moment, almost as if she was judging him for that terrible deed. Judging him for killing her.

Guilt threatened to overwhelm him. He couldn't take it.

Snape dashed to the door and escaped down the hallway, chased by cruel ringing laughter. James Potter's loudest of all.

* * *

 _Pathetic…_

Lolling his head back Snape knocked it gently against cool stone wall. He fled down to the dungeon, with his tail between his legs, taking refuge in one of the empty classrooms. A room that was never in use, having been set up for theory in the poorly lit dungeons.

The once spymaster could not have imagined handling that encounter as poorly as he did. He who had spent years amongst his enemies, acting, lying, never caught, never suspected. Yet within the span of a day, mere children were able to crumble his composure and send him fleeing for sanctuary.

Snape grimaced, suddenly remembering his flight from the Astronomy tower after committing his second most heinous sin. How too then his composure had slipped dangerously as words flung from the mouth of an ignorant child struck him too close to the core.

"Story of my life." He muttered into the dark.

The rumble of foot traffic from the hallway alerted him of the time. Potion class must be over and that must have been the sound of students hurrying up to the surface, eager to be away from the dank depth of the dungeons during their break between classes.

Snape lulled his head again, thankful that break time would give him more time to recuperate. He wasn't going to truant a class just because of a small setback, no matter how meaningless school was to him now. He was at least thankful his next class was Arithmancy. That was not a class he expected many of the boneheaded Marauders in. Perhaps Lupin studied the exacting art of numerology but without the other three he was never an issue.

He scowled disparagingly into the dark at his pathetic relief at the prospect of avoiding those prats. He was no coward yet here he was acting like one.

 _This was only the first day…_

He sighed deeply and heartfelt into the darkness, thankful he was alone.

But that was the problem of life in a sentient castle. One was rarely ever alone.

"Get up!" Snape scrambled to his feet at the sound of that deep booming voice. "No Slytherin will hide in some rat ditch moping."

Snape glared into the darkness and made out the almost invisible outline of a ghost floating above the dust-coated desks, the barely visible blood covered visage of the Bloody Baron. For a ghost whose favourite pastime involved rattling chains in various location he certainly snuck up quietly.

"Leave me be." Snape muttered. He already knew the Baron would pay his request no heed. Never had there been a House ghost less sympathetic to members of his own House.

He and the Baron had a casual acquaintance in his past life, never exchanging more words than enough to accomplish a task. Whereas other ghosts would helpfully guide their respective students and assist them in all the various matters they're capable of, the Baron would only berate for lack of skill or judgement.

Most befitting of the image of Slytherin.

"Cowards are given no quarter!" The blood stained ghost bellowed.

"I am no coward!" Snape roared back, suddenly incensed.

The barely visible spirit swooped into his face, so close they were almost nose-to-spectral-nose. "I am not convinced." He matched with an echoed hiss.

"What do you know of courage oh Slytherin Ghost? You're dead." The living man hissed. "Your call to courage is over."

"Is it?" The Baron's eyes flashed warningly as a dark mirthless smile graced his barely visible face. "Do you have regrets? So deep they root into your very soul?"

Snape grew rigid.

"Do your regrets haunt your very day and every night?"

… _Yes…_

The Baron's eyes flashed as he retreated and disappeared into the darkness. "When you can face those regrets every single day of your existence, then you may speak to me about courage."

Snape was breathing hard as he stared after the faded form. "Oh is that all?" He spat scathingly into the darkness and found no answering reply.

* * *

Potions, the last class of the day.

The lesson was never going to be challenging enough to keep his mind on task. Snape found himself casting glances to the beautiful creature that sat at the front desk.

An hour long class and she never even once looked his way.

 _Lily…_

Disheartened the Potion Master refocused his attention to the brew before him, bubbling away, refusing to challenge his abilities. A Potion of Addled Thought, an advanced version of the Confusion Concoction. Useless if he were to take it at this stage of the process despite the temptation.

 _Distract me damn you._

The Baron had called him a coward for refusing to face this regret. What did he know? Snape had faced this every day of his previous life.

Though never this directly.

She sat beside someone he could not name, a blond Gryffindor girl who both stood and sat taller than her red-headed counterpart. He watched Lily put her potion on the burner, before drawing her silver knife to a Tanoak nut. With a swift strike of the blade handle she cracked the nut down the middle, and with a swift flick of the point, separated the flesh from the hard shell. In three quick strokes she slivered the specimen into four equal slivers. It was not a required step in the recipe from the textbook, yet she knew that was how the nut should be prepared in order to speed up the reaction process and lower the chance of clots forming within the brew.

 _Masterful technique._

From as long as Snape could remember Lily had been learning his tricks in potions craft. They sat together at the same bench since first year and she watched him closely, closer than any student he's ever had since. But she hadn't simply copied his technique.

She was clever. She had learned.

By fourth year she had become a master of the craft in her own right, understanding instinctively what properties each ingredient would exhibit and how to coax the maximum potential for each of their desired effects.

The first and only person he'd ever successfully taught to brew.

 _Taught? She was never my student._

The only success in the craft that he was ever able to pass on and he could not even claim the credit as his own.

Snape presses his blade into his own Tanoak nut and shelled it, taking far more meticulous care in the action than he ever had, or ever needed to. Beside him Avery, already three steps behind, shredded the nightshade into a spindled mess. The Potion Master internally sighed but was in no mood to correct him.

It was with profound relief class end rolled around. Snape handed over his perfectly crafted brew for marking, Avery did the same albeit far less confidently. He watched as Slughorn shut his potion carrier case, waving goodbye cheerfully to his select handful of students.

The Slug club. A more blatant display of favouritism than even Professor Snape had ever deigned to show.

Snape focused intently on packing his deteriorating bag as Lily slipped out with a cheerful wave at the delighted Potions Professor. Her brew sitting snugly in the rotund professor's palm as if he intended to mark it before all the others.

Lily was always the Professor's favourite. But who could blame him?

"You go on ahead." Snape muttered as his tablemate waited for him at the front. "I need to discuss something with the Professor."

"Right." Avery replied, rolling his eyes. Snape having something potion related to discuss. That notion didn't surprise anyone. Snape had counted on it.

The door closed with a click as the last of the students exited and the lone Slytherin finally approached the Gargantuan Professor. He heaved his bag onto the front-most desk, not at all keen to shoulder it through a conversation. The straps were so frayed they cut into his shoulder like cords, but he could not bear the weight straight on his back so he'd been forced to shift it from one shoulder or the other.

"Severus m'boy. Come to dazzle me with a new bee in your bonnet?" Slughorn greeted him cheerfully. Evidently he too suspected his student only wished to speak to him about some self-conceived theory in the craft. Even without remembering much of his schooling habits Snape knew instinctively that it was exactly the kind of thing he would have done at this age.

Not this time however.

"No Professor. I come to make a request."

The smile slipped off the elder man's face. Always eager to receive favours, rarely happy to grant them. None the less he motioned for his student to continue.

"I need to speak to the Headmaster." Snape requested, laying his cards on the table. Like any Slytherin Slughorn would not grant the request easily, at least not without putting it through some questions.

"But whatever for? If you have an issue you should come to me first and foremost as the Head of Slytherin."

 _And yet never quite act like it._ Snape thought disparagingly. It wasn't favouritism he was after from the man, but just any sort of acknowledgement that the Slytherins were his to assist. As the Head of House, Professor Snape had always made sure his young snakes had him to turn to, the only point of surety in the otherwise precarious snake pit.

Slytherin had always been a House to its own. They had no one to turn to outside their own House, and within, each snake bore fangs. If their House Head would not support them then they are cast adrift and alone. It was little wonder so many submitted to the darkness under the watch of Horace Slughorn.

"I have an issue that can only be resolved by the Headmaster." Snape insisted.

The Professor would not budge. "Why dear boy if you have an issue then it is my job as the Head of House to deal with it, not Dumbledore's. The Headmaster is a very busy man."

When had Slughorn ever taken his position as the Head of Slytherin seriously? Was the man not always chomping at the bit to push his responsibilities off onto others?

Snape had misjudged the man's character, the man he remembered from a more recent life was far more reluctant to take on these tasks. This was not going to be the path forward. There were too many risks in pursuing the path of concocted lies, and too few ways one could conceivably find success.

A Slytherin knows when it's time to retreat and pursue other options.

Snape slowly shook his head. "Thank you for taking the time to listen to my request." He muttered, lifting his bag over his shoulder with a grunt. "But I ask that you not mention this to any of my Housemates."

The bushy brows on the old Professor knitted together. "Is there something the matter with your fellow Slytherins?"

Snape suppressed a derisive sneer. At this point there's been something the matter for a while.

"That is all Professor." Without another glance back Snape headed for the door. If the man could not tell of the turmoil within his own House then there was no helping him. This was the period of time when Slytherin was left bereft of support, where darkness was left to fester and grow unchecked.

His insides burned with the indignation. To have been forced to face this alone at this age, with no corner of support, and boxed in from all sides.

 _How could I have turned out any other way?_

That was the unfortunate thought that passed through his mind when he opened the door and found two green eyes staring up at him, startled.

 _Lily…_

She was leant slightly forward, as if she had been pressing her ear to the door, her eyes round with surprise. One foot was turned, pointed down the hall as if she had wanted to bolt, but wasn't given enough time to react.

The self-righteous rage fled, replaced by the soul crushing guilt. The guilt for a crime he could blame on no other.

In the end he was the one that made that choice.

He was the one that went too far.

Lily looked as if she was going to deliver an excuse but then froze before a single word made it past her lips.

As if she just remembered they were no longer on talking terms.

Her wide eyes narrowed and she lowered her head, pushing past her once-friend roughly.

 _What should I have done Lily?_

Snape lowered his eyes and slunk out, letting the door swing shut behind him.

 _Avery, Mulciber, Rosier…_

He trudged down the dungeon corridor.

 _Your House is your family._

His footsteps rang hollow in the dark echoing hall.

 _What you asked of me would have left me without anyone._

He stopped and looked back over his shoulder into the gloomy darkness.

 _Even you would have eventually left me._

His eyes darkened as he shifted the cutting straps across from one shoulder to the other, feeling the heavy bag knock against the sores upon his back.

 _You could never have kept me and Potter both._

 _And I could never have kept you._

* * *

Dinner had only one purpose for Snape.

His last chance of the day to gain Dumbledore's attention.

Scowling softly into his plate of mash and gravy Snape waited for the cheerful old man to complete his greetings and find his chair.

Potatoes were filling and would do for tonight. Ordinarily he would have gotten perhaps a few slices of roast but he could not afford the hands to cut it. He needed his wand in his right hand, under the table and out of sight.

"Still feeling poorly?" Rosier politely inquired as he cut up his own slices of medium rare beef cuts.

Snape grunted and looked away. Let Rosier believe it had something to do with what happened with the Marauders today. It would not be the first time he was rendered moody and unsociable by the constant harassment. His eyes appeared to drift casually down the teacher's table, finding Dumbledore in his throne and already chatting away to McGonagall beside him.

Snape flicked his wand and suddenly a metal pitcher half way down the Slytherin table went flying, spraying some fourth years with pumpkin juice.

"PEEVES!" Bellowed the Baron who was floating at the other end of the table. He wouldn't have witnessed the culprit yet the Poltergeist was simply the natural conclusion when mayhem occurred.

With everyone's attention fixed to further down the table Snape cast his eyes to the Headmaster's. The only pair of Slytherin eyes that were not turned in the direction of the commotion.

 _Meet my eyes._ Snape willed.

Almost as if responding to his request those piercing blue eyes locked onto his. Snape silently pushed his mind forward, casting a wordless Legilimency through eye contact.

A shadow fell over the headmaster's expression as Snape's mind met with the solid wall of the headmaster's Occlumency. He had the man's attention.

Leaning back slightly Snape allowed his mind wall melt away, summoning a thought to the forefront of his mind that would truly get the old man's interest.

"… _Severus. You have been a good and faithful servant…" Those words poured from the mouth of a grinning snake mask with glinting red eyes._

A moment that Snape could not forget.

A moment that lead to his death.

The shadow lifted from Dumbledore's face as the old headmaster gave him an almost indiscernible tilt of the head and leaned backwards into his throne.

Dinner had been cleared from the table along with the errant jug, and mess. Dessert settled in its place along the House tables, as well as the High Table.

Dumbledore appeared casual as he reached for a bowl and brought out a disgustingly sugar coated sweet. The dessert quivered between his fingers as if alive and in anticipation of being eaten, and with unnecessary meticulousness, the headmaster turned the shivering treat between his fingers and popped it into his mouth with a smile. As if that was the highlight of the evening he had been waiting for, Dumbledore then stood, exchanging goodnights with the other teachers and glided back down the table and out the door.

Snape turned to his own bowl of quivering sugar candies, scowling. He could not for the life of him remember what this sweet was called. He didn't even like sweets and hadn't made it a habit to learn their names. And with these ones, these vibrating cavities to be, these sweets probably didn't even exist in his time anymore. Why did Dumbledore have to use these as inspiration for his password this cycle?

Hesitantly he bit down on the disgusting sugar coated confectionary and cringed as the overwhelming sweetness coated the inside of his mouth. The gummy flecks that broke apart as he chewed continued to wriggle, creating a disconcerting tingling sensation on his tongue. Snape pushed through his disgust and concentrated on the flavour, hoping it would trigger some type of memory from his school days.

No luck.

With a sigh Snape stood and excused himself from the table. There was nothing for it, he'd have to guess.

* * *

Dinner was always a rowdy affair at the Gryffindor table, and because of that it wasn't that much of a surprise when pitchers go flying. When the commotion happened at the Slytherin table everyone had been briefly startled, but the Gryffindors quickly settled back into their own world. No longer paying heed to the bellowing Baron and the curious case of the flying jug.

Lily's attention however did not shift from that one dark figure amongst the many indignant snakes. Snape had not reacted to the pitcher, instead stared up at the Headmaster in almost desperation. The Gryffindor girl felt a squirm of relief when Dumbledore appeared to notice him, a relief she refused to acknowledge.

The Gryffindor girl recognised the lolly the headmaster meticulously displayed as the password to access his office this week. All the prefects were kept alerted by the Head Boy and Girl of the change, and with the explicit instructions to never disturb the Headmaster for anything other than critical issues.

Lily watched with guilty interest as the Slytherin boy pick up the same piece of candy and place it hesitantly in his mouth, his entire face convulsing with revulsion. Lily looked away, Snape should be able to take care of his problem now. She didn't need to get involved.

"Trifle?" Mary offered as she spooned the treat from the giant Sundae dish at their end of the table. Mary Macdonald was a little on the chubby side but her cherub face worked well with her luscious brown curls.

Lily shook her head. "Not tonight. Ate a little too much at dinner."

"Not on a diet are you?" Came Marlene from across the table, helping herself to some hot brownie with whipped cream.

"Not all of us can keep a slim figure effortlessly like you." Lily retorted with a grin. It wasn't strictly true. Marlene McKinnon was a Chaser on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Today was evidently a practice day as her normally loose blond hair was struck up into a messy ponytail and her face still ruddy and windblown from a hard day's flying.

Mary rolled her eyes. "Any skinnier and you'll disappear. Put some meat on your bones Lily."

"I prefer to stay at equilibrium."

From down the table a cheeky grin caught her attention as her eyes were drawn to the bespectacled ones of James Potter. His usually unruly hair stuck out worse than usual, kicked up by the winds from up high on his expensive racing broom. Lily was always torn between wanting him to brush it and liking how roguish it made him look.

Today however it was the former.

Lily narrowed her eyes and looked away. She was mad at him today after what he pulled in Defence class. She and Snape may not be friends anymore but that did not mean she was happy allow this crazy grudge to carry on. She hadn't seen Potter cast the jinx but she was left without a doubt who had done it when the Slytherin stumbled and the Marauders fell over each other howling with laughter like a pack of idiotic banshees.

"Ooooh the Princess is mad at you again." Came the irritating smooth voice of Sirius Black, loud enough that it could be heard from down the table. She glanced over and saw the worried expression on James' face as he gave her a meek hopeful smile.

Lily glared back without a word, wishing to convey all her displeasure with a withering look before turning away and paying him no more heed.

"I think I'm done here." Lily announced with a nod to Mary and Marlene, "see you both back in the Tower." She stood and headed for the Entrance Hall without another glance to James and his childish Marauders.

Crossing into the pleasant silence of the Entrance Hall, Lily took a moment to roll her shoulders and enjoy the cooling breeze of the Summer Evening. She could see the sun's rays shine through the west-facing windows, playing prettily over the ancient stonework of the historical castle.

In moments like this she could almost believe everything would be alright.

Breathing deeply Lily set off up the Grand Staircase, shedding as much of the unpleasant thoughts as she could. She had been stewing since Defence this morning, after that maddening in-class altercation between Snape and Potter. There hadn't been any doubt that James had started it, her once-friend had seemed muted and despondent today as opposed to his usual rage-filled disposition of the days preceding.

His hate filled eyes had followed her since school's start, blaming her for her decision. As if it had been an easy decision for her. As if she wanted to end their friendship.

Snape was skinnier than she's ever seen him, even coming out of a school holiday. His family didn't have much, she knew. He couldn't eat well at home, she knew.

She knew but told herself it was no longer her business. He never wanted her to meddle in his home life anyhow.

And now they had no place in each other's lives at all.

 _He was toxic to me._

 _I had to end it._

It was the right decision but it didn't sit comfortably to Lily, especially knowing what she knew about his unfortunate background. But what could she do? When he was so full of hate and rage. When he would lash out every time she tried to help, rebuking her 'pity'.

His angry looks of betrayal pierced through her each time she spoke to Potter. At least James never practiced Dark Arts. At least he didn't fly off the handle unpredictably. At least he didn't say horrible things about Muggle-Borns.

No. He only said horrible things about Slytherins. About Severus.

About Snape.

Much of it had been deserved.

When Lily had first started her friendship with Remus in their second year, she had hoped to persuade the much more pleasant boy to influence his friends into leaving her Slytherin friend alone. It looked as if it was working at first, and Lily got a little more acquainted with the rest of the marauders, they didn't seem so bad. However then Snape acted as if Lily had needed his permission to befriend anyone else.

And then suddenly everything became much, much worse.

He was controlling, violent and angry, and he grew darker by the day. Spiralling deeper and deeper into that awful Slytherin philosophy, until she could no longer see her friend when she looked at him.

The boy who showed her magic, who showed her wonder.

Who told her it didn't matter if she was Muggle-Born.

To quote a muggle proverb, last summer had been the straw that broke the donkey's back.

But then his venom-spitting, violent-fury cooled, suddenly and without warning. The change was so abrupt she even saw his Slytherin friends cast appraising glances at him.

It unsettled her.

This afternoon after Potions, Lily had returned to confirm the time for the Slug Club meeting the coming Saturday. However when she approached the door, she heard Snape's voice.

"…I ask that you not mention this to any of my Housemates."

"Is there something the matter with your fellow Slytherins?"

The words stoked dread within Lily. Had he gotten himself into a bad situation involving the other Slytherins? She had been torn between staying to listen and fleeing down the hall to avoid him.

But the decision was taken from her when door to the Potion's classroom suddenly opened and they met face to face.

She thought she had seen anger in those eyes, but it quickly fled, leaving nothing but an empty melancholy within those dark pits. A state she could not fathom from her fiery recluse once-friend.

Pulling out of these ponderous thoughts, Lily stopped at the second floor landing and glanced down the hallway. The setting sun did not shine through these windows at this time of the day, casting deep shadows. Surface classroom hallways were never lit with torches, forcing whoever wished to traverse these areas after sunset to do so by wand-light.

The Gargoyle Corridor was on this floor, the only entrance way to the Headmaster's Office that Lily knew of.

 _I'm not supposed to care anymore._

That was the thought that lanced through the Gryffindor girl's mind as she found her feet taking her down the darkened corridor. She instinctively softened her steps to stop the natural echo of the hallway from alerting anyone that might be there. To stop Snape from realising she had come to see if he's managed to find his way to the Headmaster.

An angry expletive echoed down the hall, halting her, heart racing.

 _Severus…_

 _No. Snape._

Slowly Lily made her way down the hall and peeked around the corner. A dark shadow paced back and forth before the Gargoyle, despite the setting sun no wand-light was lit.

But even without it there was no mistaking that voice.

"Move you ludicrous Gargoyle. I don't have time to play guess the sugar-based trollop." He growled rather than screamed, he didn't flail or stomp his feet. He was almost calm if not for the pacing.

A frightening thought occurred to Lily, that this might be someone under Polyjuice. It would certainly explain how drastically different he was behaving lately. He was like a complete stranger.

But the way he had looked at her…

Those were not the eyes of a stranger.

Lily took a deep breath and whispered, "Lumos." She stepped around the corner, lit wand held aloft. Shadows leapt up around the man who wore the face of her once-friend. He whipped around, wand drawn and pointed, growling, "Who's there?"

Lily moved her wand-light to the side, watching closely as the boy's dark eyes widened marginally. The light glinting on his black pupils, wavering as if from some unspoken emotion.

 _Not the eyes of a stranger…_

"Jittering Dandies." Lily called out. The Gargoyle leapt to the side, revealing the spiralling staircase up to the Headmaster's office. Despite having a way forward Snape stood stock still like a deer caught in headlights. Hope in his eyes. She knew then for certain that he was no imposter.

But she was not going to forgive him.

She had run out of chances to give him.

"Whatever you got yourself into, sort it out… Snape." She tacked his surname to the end of that sentence, almost as if she was formalising their distance.

Hurt flashed in his eyes. Lily felt her temper flare alongside her guilt. He didn't get to look hurt. He didn't have the right. Not when he's battered aside every one of her attempts to this point to mend their divide.

She could give no more.

 _He won't ever change._

Lily turned to leave before she could say something she'll regret.

"You were right." His voice came like a whisper.

The Gryffindor fought the urge to glance back. She won't be swayed by his murmured words. The deceitful mask he wore only for her when he would publically stand with his Slytherin friends and their awful ideals.

 _A liar or a coward._

 _No more chances._

Lily rounded the corner, leaving all thoughts of him behind.

* * *

Snape was not in an emotionally good place.

He stood silently before the Headmaster's door, composing himself.

 _Lily…_

He took one shuddering breath and pressed that memory down behind his mind walls, down into where his emotions slept.

The storm inside quietened.

 _This was only the first day…_

Snape knocked, as composed as he'll ever be. "Come in." Beaconed that familiar welcoming voice.

He pushed through the door and was greeted by the patiently smiling headmaster. A mask he wears above his ruthless core. Behind the headmaster perched his phoenix Fawkes, ruffling its shining feathers, leaning forward as if regarding the visitor with curiosity.

Severus remembered the first time he met the bird, when he gave his first report as a newly indoctrinated spy. The phoenix gave a haunting cry that shook him to his core, a sound that drew out all his deepest fears. He thought he had hated the bird then.

But then the bird sang again, that night he sat sobbing in the corner of this very office, his greatest fears having been realised. The song soothed the dregs of his shattered soul and lent him courage to continue when he hadn't believed he could.

His courage had only burned fiercer since.

"Good evening Mr Snape." Dumbledore greeted, his half-senile smile still masking his true thoughts.

Snape nodded his head and politely returned the greeting. "Professor Dumbledore." There was no point in continuing pleasantries. "I have come with information you might find useful." That was it. He was committed.

But that was something that had never been in doubt. He was never going to seek the coward's way.

 _No matter what. I'll see my duty through._

* * *

A/N: Nope, not going to be so easy for Severus Snape. Story of his life I'm sure.

Let's talk shop. I have a very peculiar way of updating in that I set deadlines for myself. I promise all you dear readers that from here on out, I will be updating once a fortnight on Australian Fridays at around midday. It is my hope that I can popularise this type of authorial discipline.

If ever I fail to meet a promised update feel free to bludgeon me with angry messages. The most likely reason will be I simply forgot to update, or life is keeping me from the computer. That usually means I'll update within a day or so of the promised time. If I completely stop updating it is safe to assume that I have died, or less dramatically that I have encountered some Australian internet related issues that cannot be immediately resolved. That is the unfortunate reality of living in a first world country with third world internet.

Edit: Thank you to sattwa100 for picking out the errors dotted throughout my chapter. Some will always slip through without diligent eyes helping me look.

Next Update: Friday 10th March 2017 AEDT.

Chapter 3: To Serve Once More

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	3. To Serve Once More

**Chapter 3: To Serve Once More**

The dream took on the quality of a memory. A memory Snape had never lived.

He walked down darkened torch lit corridors that seemed to stretch for miles. Screams echoed within the halls, appearing to come from every direction at once. Following him.

He was a visitor there, a young man who didn't belong. He couldn't stop shivering, breath condensing into white puffs from the despairing chill. He quickened his step to catch up to the guard who was guiding him through. A silvery hound strode beside the uniformed man, chasing away the darkness, and all that lurked within.

The visitor stopped before a steel door, seeming to hesitate. He felt the fear that permeated him, as if he would like nothing more than to flee from this dark place.

The guard that guided him through the halls stepped forward to slide open a panel, and the face of a withered old man peeked through, staring blankly as if not registering he was no longer alone.

"Father…" The visitor's voice came out in a white puff of breath. He felt the rise of sorrow beat in his breast.

The old man turned his eyes to him, glinting blue in the silvery light, but it twinkled no more. The younger man thought he might have seen a hint of recognition. A fanciful hope.

"Father. It's me."

The old man's eyes met his. "… I'm sorry." He croaked, barely a whisper. Sorrow stung again, but this time gilded with anger. "…Take care of her… for me."

His voice echoed into the swirling uncertainty of the dream, the sorrow and regret lingered with the bitter tang of frustration and resentment. The colours shifted and the dream suddenly took familiar tones. The warm tones of pastel wall paper and white upholstered sofas, the cosy warmth of a family home.

A warmth that fled upon the sight of what was happening before him.

"You killed her!" The face of the young man who screamed that came into sharp focus. His face contorted with rage.

A handsome blond man took a step back, pinned by the force of the first man's ire. "It wasn't my fault." His wand was still gripped tightly in his hand. "If only you hadn't-"

"Gellert." The third man spoke, the man whose eyes Snape watched through." Please." His eyes cast downwards and alighted upon the body of a young girl, sprawled unmoving upon the Livingroom floor. Struck dead by spell fire.

Sorrow. Regret. Bitterness.

The first man's face was suddenly in his, bright blue eyes burning with rage, an accusing finger prodding into the watcher's chest as he screamed "I blame you most of all!"

Snape awoke, heart pattering. The sorrow that seeped the dream had coloured his mind, but slowly his equilibrium restored, and he was left thankful that the dreams were not of his own regrets. At the very least his rest remained sweet, and restful sleep was something of great commodity to Severus Snape.

But a niggling thought would not leave him, a sense those within his dreams were somehow familiar.

Slowly and tenderly, Snape got up out of bed. Two bloody spots stained the sheets, having seeped through his nightshirt while he slept. His wounds kept cracking and resealing, a telling testament to how long it would take to naturally heal, and how much scarring would remain.

He could not remember how he dealt with this injury the first time around but he got the sense it might have to do with the times he stolen from the potion supplies cupboard. But it was no longer in Snape's nature to steal, especially not from Potion stores. It was something he was simply going to have to see through.

The other beds were already empty, breakfast likely was already underway. Snape had slept far longer than he was used to. His young body needed far more sleep than he had allocated it as a fully grown adult. He made a mental note to adjust for this when headed for bed in the future. At the very least he felt thankful that nobody was here.

Snape stripped off, unsticking his shirt carefully from his back, trying his best not to tear his scab again. That was another thing, he needed to take in more protein to increase his recovery speed. He couldn't keep to his habitual breakfast diet of dried toast and little else, at this age and expect good results.

He slipped on his newly laundered robes, feeling the itch of the scratchy thin material against his healing skin. He sighed, dropping the worn garment to the floor and took out a hole-riddled singlet from his small store of clothes, slipping it on his thin frame. It at least offered some comfort in the form of padding. Snape never had a large amount of spare clothes, not even when he was able to afford it. Even as an adult he restricted his wardrobe to three changes of the same set of black teaching robes.

He slipped on his frayed grey trousers next, a newer but obviously second-hand addition to the rags he could barely call clothes. The article was still too short for him, the hems barely reaching his ankles, he didn't even have a proper belt for it. Snape had to thread a strip of leather through the loops and tie it closed so it wouldn't slip off his thin hips. Though not a traditional part of the wizard's garbs, Snape had acquired the habit of always wearing trousers, even underneath long hemmed robes, a lesson learned harshly in the summer of his fifth year.

Snape adjusted his robes, he supposed this was as comfortable as he'll be today. He gave his chin a quick rub, noting a thin patchy roughness, he didn't know when he last shaved at this age but it had certainly not grown long enough to warrant one. He never had an affinity for facial hair and for that he had been at least a little thankful. Goodness knows his state of mind if he had to waste time more than twice a week on maintaining a clean shave.

With a mutter of his timekeeping spell Snape ascended the stairs out of the empty dormitory, deciding he'd best catch the end of breakfast before taking his time with a shower and care for his unruly teeth.

* * *

Charms class with Flitwick was the first order of the day. That meant sharing a class with Lily and the entirety of the Marauders. A mental tightrope if there ever was one.

The classroom was arranged like an amphitheatre with the desks aligning the walls, leaving a corridor down the middle in which the Charms Professor may demonstrate and zip from one student to another efficiently.

Snape sat slumped on the edge-most seat closest to the door. Across the room from him, almost literally at the furthest point possible, sat Lily, next to an unidentified Ravenclaw girl who kept trying to engage her attention. He could not help but shoot sideways glances at her, feeling a stab of helplessness when she would not once meet his eyes.

In front of her sat the enemy. Potter, seeming all too aware of this privileged seating position, immediately set about peacocking away, ruffling his hair and making flourishing sweeps of his wand in elaborate unrequired displays. An unnecessary and frankly idiotic way to attempt the spells asked of them today, it was satisfying to see that none of his showboating bore any fruit. Charms was a craft that required specific and meticulous wand motions and the feckless Potter's perchance to making a spectacle was biting him in the arse.

Today's Charms lesson involved Wordless magic yet again, but this time with three spells taught, instead of the one. Wand-Lighting, Fire starting and Levitating Charms. Simple first year spells.

Snape glanced around the classroom, watching the Hufflepuffs hard at work, some reaching a semblance of success and some needing to whisper under their breath to produce any effect at all. The Ravenclaws were engaged in discussions over how wordless magic actually worked, and whether control for wordless spell was increased by thinking the words rather than saying it. It was a theory question Professor Flitwick had posed in the beginning of class and had subsequently proposed it offhandedly to be the homework question due the following week. Snape already knew the answer however, having been through these motions before.

Wordless magic came from tracing the same magical paths the magic took while casting but without the aid of verbal command. It required habitual use of those spells to build familiarities with the magical paths they engaged, then precise magical control to be able to activate the same path through will alone. Snape found saying the spell in his head helped helps him focus on complex casting, but for spells that require quick casting that method remained inefficient. Like all skills it required repeat practice and for what he lacked in natural proficiency he always gained with dedicated focus.

"Mr Snape you won't learn the spells just sitting still, gathering moss." Said Professor Flitwick as he ambled over, peering upwards to maintain eye contact due to his diminutive stature. Up till now the Once-Potion-Master had been sitting in abject silence, watching those around him with an air of boredom. Flitwick, being the Head of Ravenclaw, was not one to ignore idleness. "I encourage you to participate."

Snape had thought about perhaps putting on a show, pretend to struggle to cast the frankly, insultingly basic spells, but he simply could not find the motivation to play dumb. With quick successive flicks he cast all three charms at once, surely this was not too much to expect from a talented sixth year student. Flitwick certainly hadn't seem to find this display suspicious, delightfully surprising but not suspicious. "Well done Mr Snape! I can see you've practiced ahead of the curricular again. Twenty points to Slytherin for that skilful display."

Snape wordlessly extinguished his wand and gently set his floating lit candlewick down. Almost inaudibly, the mocking voices drifted over from that pack of rabid Gryffindors, but he chose to ignore it.

"Good work nerd." Mulciber grinned triumphantly as he smacked his massive bear paw over Snape's back, causing him to crumple in suppressed agony.

Rosier nodded his approval and quickly returned to his own practice, seeming incensed by the ease of Snape's success. Muciber followed suit, flinging his wand about like a conductor to a very timid brass band.

"Too bad you can't copy practical work." Snape replied with a layer of thinly veiled sarcasm, obviously not received as such because the large buffoonish boy nodded in agreement.

"Mr Snape you're on fire!"

Flitwick evidently did not mean it in a metaphorical sense as the smell of burning wool met Snape's nostrils. He spun quickly around to find the hem of his robes lit aflame. The charms professor rushed over as quickly as his stumpy legs would carry him, wand held aloft, ready to assist. Snape, however, aided himself with a downwards point of his wand down and doused the smouldering flames with a jet of water, glowering at the damage done to his already thin and tatty robes.

He did not have to look far to find who was responsible. That infuriating smirk shared between Pettigrew, Black and Potter was quickly wiped off their collective faces when Flitwick bustled over to berate them.

"It was a miscast. Honest." Lied Black while that rat Pettigrew shrank into his seat and that infuriating Potter made his best impression of innocence with his wide eyes and false remorse.

The sharp Flitwick did not at all seem appeased but did not escalate the matter. "Careful in the future," was all he said before bustling off to attend to a couple of Ravenclaws waving their hands about for the Professor's attention.

Snape scowled at the injustice of it all. At the very least they should have had some points removed. House points might be meaningless to him but it was still galling to their child minds.

"Reckon I can hex them wordlessly?" Rosier asked in a conspiratory whisper. He leaned over and raised his wand.

Snape stopped him with a firm hand on his forearm, not because he cared about what Rosier would do to the Marauders, but because Lily was sitting right behind them, and he could not remember the trueness of Rosier's aim.

In that moment her green eyes slid across to his side of the room, meeting those his dark ones just briefly before looking away once more.

* * *

It was the strangeness of his behaviour that caught Lily's attention.

His hand had gone up to dissuade his violent friend from retaliating on his behalf. Snape had never shown restraint, that was not his nature. But when Lily glanced over his eyes had already been fixed on her. She met those dark orbs briefly before looking away again, willing him to believe she happened to be glancing about the room casually.

"C'mon Padfoot. Do it again. Flitwick's not watching."

Lily felt her temper rise as she looked down at the cretin of a Gryffindor James Potter, egging on his possibly even more cretinous best friend Sirius Black.

With a muffled snigger Black drew his wand back, aiming yet again for the hunched over form of the Slytherin boy who was definitely not provoking them.

 _Why can't they just grow up and leave each other alone?!_

With a silent flick of her wand she summoned Black's out of his poised hand and snatched it out of the air. Two indignant sets of eyes swung around to meet hers.

"I thought you were over Snivellus." Black spat while Potter coyly withdrew, putting back up his innocent façade.

"What I'm over is your disruptive behaviour in class!" Lily shot at them, offering Black's wand back to him. "You will point your wand at your candles or Merlin help me, I will take away all the points you gained in Transfigurations last week."

The colour drained from James' face. "You wouldn't."

Lily smiled sweetly. "Just try me."

Muttering obscenities under his breath Black snatched his wand from Lily's hand and James shot her a worried glance before averting his eyes. He at least had the decency to look abashed. From next to his chastised friends, Remus met her eyes apologetically and Lily shot back at him a withering glare. A fellow prefect yet he was less than useless when it came to controlling his friends. Honestly he was never as bad as the other Marauders, often positively pleasant really, but frustratingly he would always stand aside and let his friends do whatever they wished. Whether it be creating mischief or tormenting another.

However on occasions Lily could not find herself innocent of this either. Such as when those Slytherins would blatantly act upon their horrible discriminatory views and the Marauders jump in to answer them with violence. It was at times like these Lily found herself believing they were in the right of it, defending people like her. It was becoming harder and harder for her to make herself believe stopping the Marauders was the morally just thing to do, especially if she had been witness to the cause, if the Slytherin had indeed been doing something to deserve it.

 _Why couldn't things be simple?_

Lily sighed and shook her head, turning back to her candle wick and lit it with a silent flick of her wand.

"Do you find yourself saying the words in your head?" Asked the Ravenclaw girl beside her, leaning forward enthusiastically. Dorcas Meadow. A curious spirit who spends each class sitting next to the student she thought to be the best at the topic and peppering them with insistent questions. In Charms her muse was Lily. In Transfiguration she'd huddle up next to James.

In the past Dorcas used to squeeze herself beside Lily when they and Snape shared a bench in Potions Class. Snape had been the obvious genius in the craft and the focus of Dorcas' questioning, but always by proxy through Lily. Even the pursuit of knowledge couldn't persuade the curious Ravenclaw to be in arm's length when she tempted the infamous temper of Severus Snape.

Lily shook her head. "No I don't get why people would think Incendio when casting it wordlessly. It won't draw the magic out. It doesn't work the same way as verbal casting."

Leaning forward Dorcas blew out her candle and proceeded to light it wordlessly herself. "Perhaps it is simply easier for most people to do so habitually. Like those words inspire them to remember what course the spell takes."

Lily nodded, mentally noting to explore that line of thought in her essay later this week. "Do you think aloud in your head then?"

"Oh yes." Dorcas nodded vigorously. "In fact I think it's more common to find people who think-cast rather than instinct-cast like you do."

The Gryffindor girl leaned back and rolled that thought about her mind.

"Actually Lily can you do your trick again? You know. Casting without a wand?"

Lily nodded and waved her empty left hand before her and commanding, "Wingardium Leviosa." The candle responded by hovering off the table, wick still flickering. Wandless casting was a trick Lily found she could handle with ease, but nobody else seemed to quite have the knack for. There were limitations of course. She could only do it well with charms up to only a moderate difficulty as well as some simple transfigurations. She would begin to struggle when she reached for an advanced level charm, but some were still possible.

"I don't think I've ever met any witch or wizard who could do what you can without a wand." Dorcas sighed admiringly.

Setting the candle down gently Lily replied. "Well I think it's more like the magic we used to do as children, before we came to Hogwarts, only I simply hadn't forgotten like everyone else."

Dorcas' hand shot up and Professor Flitwick was immediately at their table. "Yes Miss Meadows?"

"Sir. Is it possible to acquire wandless casting through practice?"

"Why of course Ms Meadows. Just about everything can be learned through practice. Just like everything can be improved through practice." The Charms Professor fixed Lily with a steely eye and she felt a twinge of chagrin.

No matter how far Lily was ahead of her classmates, in that particular skill and possibly Charms in general, she was always met with Flitwick's muted disapproval. He berated her for relying too heavily on natural affinity and for not trying hard enough to maximise the potential of her gift. She supposed that was just how Ravenclaws thought. Having raw talent meant a responsibility to pursue it with every fibre of your being.

"Ms Evans my personal assignment to you this year is for you to cast one charm, any charm, both wandlessly and wordlessly. Don't expect to pass without completing it."

Lily was aghast. "I can't do both at once."

"Well I do believe that is the point of practice." The Professor turned on his heels and waddled off.

"He is never so strict with anyone. He must really like you." Dorcas said with delight. Though sweet as that sentiment might be Lily could not feel it in herself to feel appreciative, but before Lily could reply to that effect a knock came at the door.

"Come in!" Flitwick's voice squeaked up from behind the corner table, having accidentally been sent over the counter when a Hufflepuff's wordless levitation charm backfired.

To everyone's surprise Slughorn's hefty frame pushed through the door. A teacher with a vastly different philosophy on how natural talent should be treated.

"Apologies Filius, I was sent by… Where the devils are you?"

"Here. Right here Horace." Flitwick was finally able to right himself and pop his head up from behind the desk.

"Right you are." Slughorn turned but did not amble over. "Apologies but I've been sent by the headmaster to fetch one of your students. I'll be borrowing Mr Snape if you don't mind."

Lily could not help but glance over at the Slytherin teen, along with almost every other student. Snape hadn't seemed all that surprised, in fact he was most nonchalant as he stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder with an almost casual sway. He hadn't even unpacked his books, it was as if he had been expecting this.

The memory of his desperation to meet the headmaster the previous day flittered through her mind.

 _What have you gotten yourself into Sev…?_

 _No. Snape._

"Well we'll be off then, sorry for interrupting." Slughorn called with a jolly wave and out the door he popped with Snape stalking out silently after him.

"Well I'll be. Old Snivellus finally did something rank enough to get himself kicked out I'll bet." Black said almost too gleefully.

Potter nodded in agreement and turned to Lily with terribly satisfied smile. "Good thing you dropped him when you did."

Lily could feel her temper ticking away again. How could James not realise already that every time he brought it up it he wounds her. She did not think it a _**good**_ thing that she could no longer find herself able to maintain that friendship. The first magical friend she had ever made. The first person to have ever made her feel like she belonged.

But the world they entered into showed her they could never have belonged together.

 _He was poison to me._

 _No. He turned into poison._

The boy she had met was nothing like the young man she had parted ways with. A boy, dressed in rags, with riches in his eyes. Reaching to the future so full of hope. With nothing to his name but a firm knowledge he belonged to this world, and yet even with so little he had never hesitated to share it all with her.

Bringing magic into her life.

It was that boy she missed so keenly.

"At the very least Snape's got the message to keep away." Lily replied coolly. "A skill Potter, that you've yet to master."

She savoured the crestfallen expression on that arrogant toerag. Knowing all too well even when bitten he'd never be twice shy.

* * *

If truth be told Snape had expected to be summoned far sooner, perhaps missing Charms entirely. It wasn't like he needed to attend classes, and by now Dumbledore knew it too.

The night before Snape had extracted the memories Dumbledore's dead counterpart had gifted him, leaving them all neatly in the headmaster's Pensieve for his browsing leisure.

Memories from a life that the headmaster had yet to live, or possibly never would live if he could change the course of the future. Memories Snape had not yet been able to see, despite being stored in his mind.

Like any Legilimens Snape knew Dumbledore had made it inaccessible from his own mind as a failsafe to protect his sanity. Those memories had not been his own and would likely alter his sense of reality if they were implanted into his mind like real memories. Likely the only way Snape would be able to view them was if he extracted them into a Pensieve. He however had not been offered a chance to view it, Dumbledore had dismissed him after he offered up the memories, insisting sleep was necessary for a growing young mind.

Standing now in the Headmaster's Office and facing the imposing height of the elderly headmaster, Snape smirked internally. Dumbledore probably knew now that "young" was not the term that best described Snape.

"Ah Horace. I see you've got our young Mr Snape here in one piece." Dumbledore's eyes sparkled as if sharing a joke. Snape's internal smirk turned into a scowl. It looks like the headmaster decided to take his predicament in a humorous light.

Slughorn placed a hand on his student's shoulder, almost protectively. "He's uh… not in trouble is he?"

"Why not at all. Your concern for your Slytherin is welcome, but misplaced. He is not in trouble. You may relax and leave him in my care." Severus thought his concern was more likely for one of his "Little Slugs." Despite never attending any of the man's frivolous parties Snape was somehow considered a member.

"Right you are Albus." Horace appeared almost too eager to comply. "Will there be anything else you'll be needing me for?"

"No. But thank you for your offer."

Slughorn bustled out of the office, squeezing his large frame back down the spiral staircase. The door swung shut and immediately wards began stitching together, flaring up so powerfully that the magical thrum was almost visible.

"Am I correct to suppose all pretence can be dropped?" Snape asked in a silky tone.

The headmaster's smile turned grim. "Indeed Severus. May I call you Severus?"

Snape could not help the tired curl of his lips, almost forming a smile. "It would not seem too outlandish."

"Well Severus. It seems you are not who you appear to be." Dumbledore turned and without a word or a motion his Pensieve dish floated out of its stone holder and settled upon his desk. "Are you a seer Severus?"

"No." Snape replied.

"I would like to ask then how you came by these memories." The smooth surface of the Pensieve shifted and a memory appeared, a memory of old hands brushing open an ancient looking scroll. Upon its aged yellowing surface laid an ink illustration depicting a cup engraved with badgers. "They are evidently not your own."

"You had given them to me." Snape replied. He did not make mention under which circumstances and how, but he knew the old man had suspected the truth already.

"If I had then you must have been a precious friend indeed." The old man appeared suddenly weary and Snape followed Dumbledore's distant eyes to the surface of the shimmering liquid where a familiar face shone out. That of a blond man with mischievous mismatched eyes.

Snape's eyes widened in recognition. " _Those_ were your memories too?"

 _Those dreams were memories?_

"Why would you give me those?"

"Why indeed?" Dumbledore's blue eyes lifted from the surface. "That was the next question I was going to ask you. It appears the Dumbledore you know is quite the enigmatic soul. Good to know I have something to look forward to."

"Then you know." Snape pressed urgently. "You understand I am not of this time? You believe I am from a time yet to come?"

"I believe Severus, that no matter who you claim to be, these memories at least are truthfully from me." A wariness settled over the headmaster's expression as the Pensieve shifted again, and the dead girl appeared upon it surface.

"Who is this girl?" Snape asked in a muted tone.

"Arianna." Came the reply, spoken as softly as he'd ever heard the headmaster speak. "My sister."

A memory jogged in Severus' mind, of what he had overheard mere months after Dumbledore's death. The Skeeter woman had published a muckraking piece in the form of a biography, and that had been all that was discussed within the Staffroom during those long dark days. They had already been worn down by the darkness brought by the Second War, even brilliant minds sought refuge in the mindless gossip.

The full extent of what the article had detailed however never made it to Snape. He would never deign himself to read such trollop, and as for the staffroom, the moment anyone noticed his presence all conversation would melt away. Accusing eyes would follow him anywhere he went, murmurs of "traitor" and "coward" dogged his every step. Solitude was his only refuge during the year of darkness, the last year of his life.

" _Murderer."_

Those words were from those that once regarded him as friend, that he perhaps might have considered friends too. He could find no haven lest within his own convictions. The knowledge that he alone kept.

That he was no traitor, and no coward.

A knowledge he took with him to the grave. Nobody would ever know what he had done. What he had endured the suffocating solitude for.

Because the only other he passed the knowledge to would not have been long behind him.

"You weren't popular among the staff I see." Snape's eyes widened as he realised Dumbledore saw everything. He had not thought to Occlude, standing face-to-face with the old headmaster yet again lulled him into a false-sense of mind security. He was reminded quite vividly that this Dumbledore did not have context. This Dumbledore was not his friend.

Sliding his walls carefully in place Snape dipped his head, half in acknowledgement, and half to break eye contact. "I was never popular. It was simply worse that year."

"Why did they believe you the false ally? Because you had to sit under the thumb of the enemy to play your role?"

"Because of you!" Snape's eyes rose to meet the headmaster's, anger bared upon on his face. How convenient of Dumbledore to have reminded himself of Snape's utility, and left out why it was he was forced to mire himself so completely in that darkness.

Of how Dumbledore forced his hand. How he used that memory, reminding him of something he did not need a reminder for.

 _For her._

 _Always for her._

Dumbledore glanced away. "If you endured so much on my orders then I do not doubt your dedication. You are not the sort of man to shirk your duty." His blue eyes met Snape's once more. "And duty will call you once again."

Snape felt the horror well up within him before his mind had fully comprehended the implications.

Another lifetime of this soul-crushing charade.

He met those blue eyes, desperately holding his mind-wall together through his emotional upheaval. Pressing down his memories of Lily furthest of all.

 _He would use her against me again._

But even as that thought passed through Snape's mind he knew, even if her memory laid un-invoked, it would never leave him. The anger, the misery, the guilt. The love. She was the person who taught him how to love. He could never let her go.

Even if he had to suffer through another worthless lifetime he would do it for her.

"I am willing to do what has to be done." Snape rasped. "But please… if there is any alternative… any at all." He was grovelling and he knew it. He knew what grovelling sounded like. It was the voice that sounded in his mind whenever he remembered that night where he stood before the Fat Lady's Portrait, begging for her forgiveness. His mental shields swayed against his emotions but Dumbledore did not breach.

He was no longer probing Snape's mind.

Snape had once sworn to himself he would never be a true Death Eater again. That was the mantra that sustained him in the years where he was forced to continue to bear that mask. It was the hope that sustained him now, having been given his time again. A wish that had never taken the form of a wish.

A chance to make different decisions. To make the right decision.

 _To bring the end of the war one step closer._

 _To free her from her fate._

"I… I shall serve." Snape bowed his head. _Even if it meant another lifetime of suffering._ "Do with me what you will."

"Actually. I was rather thinking you would not make a very good spy at all." Snape frowned, unsure whether to feel relieved or offended. The old man's eyes twinkled as if he found this assessment to be humorous. "In fact you are already full of useful information. The last place I wish to place you is within Voldemort's grasp."

The name sent a lance of fear through Snape's spine, but the familiarity of the name uttered in Dumbledore's voice eased the blow. He felt himself physically deflate with relief. At the very least he would be free of the Dark Mark in this lifetime. Free physically, but never mentally.

"However the first thing I ask of you Severus, is that you let me into your mind."

Snape's dark eyes narrowed as he met those blue ones.

"I want all information regarding this war and how it will play out. But not just that. I ask you to give me everything you know. Show me everything you have. Whether you think it relevant or otherwise. I want you to keep no secrets from me."

 _That's rich. Keeping no secrets?_

The thought of Lily skittered along Snape's mind-wall, the crushing guilt along with it, and following behind, the spiralling shame and despair.

 _You want that too? My greatest regret?_

 _My shame to bear?_

But Dumbledore had shared his too. He had shared with Severus his own deepest and darkest moments. Snape recognised those dreams for what they were.

A confession.

An offering to Snape. To placate his pride for when he makes vulnerable himself, so that he too would gain once more the trust of Albus Dumbledore.

Snape almost admired him for his manipulations.

To have Snape not only hand him a timeline of what was to come, but also a way for this Dumbledore to understand the man before him as the last one had.

The cunning man had found a way to relive his life without needing to actually relive it.

* * *

A/N: Sorry for the delay today you guys. Work time got shifted around. I did warn in the previous chapter that this might happen.

Most Snape-relives-his-life fanfics I've read had always made him antagonistic towards Dumbledore, even if Dumbledore had been the reason he got his second chance to begin with. I never understood this. Sure he might have a bit of betrayal angst over what appeared to be the sacrifice of Harry but Dumbledore was perhaps Snape's only friend after Lily's death, certainly the only person to have ever known him truly. Even Lily had died without knowing what Snape was capable of.

Plus Dumbledore is the most powerful ally Snape could possibly have in a war that would no doubt eventually affect both him and the muggle-born he loves. He's too Slytherin not to realise this and utilise his resources accordingly.

Next Update: Friday 24th March 2017 AEDT.

Chapter 4: Prince of the Snake pit

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	4. Prince of the Snake pit

**Chapter 4: Prince of the Snake pit**

"Thank you Severus, you have been most helpful."

Dumbledore sat before the Pensieve, swirling with memories he had extracted from his companion. Some given quite readily, such as those concerning present and future Death Eater activity. Others Snape fought tooth and claw to keep, but relented after gentle prompting by the old headmaster.

A memory of Lily floated across the surface, causing Snape to mentally shrink inwards.

Dumbledore had collected from him mostly memories concerning the first war, of how it was fought, and how it was nearly lost. In this schooling period of his life he hadn't known much of worth, so it was the rumours and news he overheard that Dumbledore took. These memories were few and far between so they had zipped quickly through Snape's school days, mercifully glancing over his actual school life and delved into the darkness that was to become of his adult existence.

"A regrettable choice." Dumbledore muttered as Snape's committed atrocities played out in the shimmering memories. The first of which he was ever tasked to commit had been the murder of his own parents.

"What was the reason he asked this of you, do you know?"

Snape glowered. "You do not believe it was simply because they were a Muggle and a Blood-Traitor?"

"I believe that is not all of it."

The once-Death Eater relented. "You would be correct." He tapped a finger on the desk, a fidgety movement he thought he trained himself out of. Perhaps muscle memory was learned by the part of the brain that could not be passed back through time.

"Amedeus Prince." He began, tasting the bitterness that came with the name. "The last of the Prince line and he is without heirs. He is also my grandfather."

Dumbledore appeared to lean forward. "A dark bloodline. I would have thought the Princes had thrown his support behind Tom." The Dark Lord's hidden name. A name that did not inspire fear. A name Snape was grateful Dumbledore used for the sake of his nerves. He was no coward but he was not one to court fear without reason. He was no Gryffindor.

Snape glanced away. "No. Not in its entirety. Amedeus is old. His concerns are no longer that of political squabbles. It is of his legacy." He let that statement trail off. Knowing Dumbledore's keen mind followed.

"Goblin laws on inheritance differs from ours. So even if your mother was disowned…" He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "So Tom made you eliminate the only person who could have claimed that inheritance."

Snape dipped his head in grim acknowledgement. "And made me renounce my claim to the name. Like a fool I agreed readily, not even giving a thought as to why. It was only many years after did I discover the timing of my orders coincided with the extinction of the Prince line."

A sympathetic smile graced Dumbledore's lips. "It appears you did not make many good decisions in your lifetime."

"Perhaps that was my only one. I was not killed for the foolish pursuit of a fortune that was never mine."

"A wise way to put it." Agreed Dumbledore, and with a cheerful hum Dumbledore returned to his bowl of memories, picking out new ones to question its donor about. "Now concerning this of the prophecy-"

"No!" Snape hissed, barely restraining himself from leaping off his seat. "We will not be pursuing that conclusion! I will find and strangle that Trelawney woman to keep her from uttering those cursed words if I have to."

"Now Severus. That is no way to treat fellow staff members."

Snape snapped. "I will _not_ be a _staff member_ ever again."

With a twinkle in his eye Dumbledore sat back in his seat and let that pass without comment. Instead the old man glanced at the wobbling clock as it pinged and puffed out purple smoke. "My look at the time! You've missed a whole day's worth of classes!"

Snape glanced up and observed it was already five in the evening, almost time for dinner to begin. His stomach grumbled in complaint about its missed midday meal.

"I only had Herbology left in the afternoon. Tuesday is a two class day." Snape grumbled. He couldn't quite believe the headmaster was actually bringing up class attendance as if was of such vital importance to a man who had already done his due.

Dumbledore nodded and drew out a garishly feathered quill. "Then I shall arrange for a note to be passed on to Pomona. I expect she'll excuse your absence. For now I must agree with your stomach's sentiments. Off to dinner with you Mr Snape." The headmaster drew out a parchment and dipped his quill into his multi-coloured inkwell. A clear message to the younger man that he was dismissed.

But the Potion Master could not let this be. "If I should be so bold headmaster, but would I not be of better use dedicated to this war rather than stuck repeating my studies?"

The headmaster lifted his eyes from his parchment. "Severus. As much as I appreciate your ability, we're fighting for the future. I would like you to have one."

"I know my spells and potions! There is nothing I could possibly gain from two years of wasted time!" Defence Against the Dark Arts and Charms were already turning out to be a bit of a joke. Herbology and Potions Snape knew like second nature. As for Transfiguration he had never been the best at the first time around but after decades of practical use he could conjure with the best of them. While Arithmancy and ancient runes had large portions of grey areas, he was adamant that the only parts he needed were the parts he utilised in potion and spell development.

"I believe you might not be as on top of the theory as you might think." Dumbledore looked wistful. "Alas the years do tend to take things away from us."

Snape glowered. "What I cannot remember has obviously not served me in the course of my life. What would be the point of picking up that useless information again?"

"Now Severus. That is not the attitude a Professor should take."

"I am _**not**_ going to be a member of staff!"

* * *

Colours swirled around him. Snape knew he was dreaming again, and this time he had been expecting it.

He stared out at the expanse of a field from atop a hill, filled with a tangible flittering joy. He felt the warmth of the spring afternoon, the tickle of a breeze that should not have a tactile component as it did within this dream. He turned slightly, and from the corner of his eye he glanced to the young man standing beside him. A handsome young man with blond curls to his shoulder and a mischievous grin that made his mismatched eyes sparkle.

The same man who had decried his innocence over the body of the dead girl.

It appeared however in this dream all was forgiven, or this was from a time before that chaos, because no grudge or regret gilded these memories.

A shiver of nervousness ran through the boy, as if the observer feared to be caught staring. His heart sped up and Snape could not help but feel the thrumming emotion familiar, but for the life of him could not find a way to associate it with this context.

Despite the caution of the observer the handsome boy noticed. Eyes were quickly turned away and embarrassment permeated the memory. A hand fell upon his arm as the observer turned his eyes up, meeting the one grey and one dark eyes of the handsome taller boy.

"For the greater good." That boy said firmly, hand gripping so hard upon the watcher's wrist that Snape felt the tingle in his own fingertips. "Don't lose sight of that. I'll need you by my side for what is to come."

The scene melted away and the serenity was shattered by the sudden violence of a spell explosion, magical projectiles whizzed about his head. With a great sweeping arc of his wand the observer brushed aside three curses aimed for his life. Howling fanatics rushed at him, clad in black, each carrying the mark of the triangular eye.

A green streak darted towards him. With impossibly quick reflexes he Disapparated, reappearing in the throng of battle, the cacophony was deafening. Swinging around he parted the crowd with a powerful sweep of his wand, revealing the man who lay at the heart of this chaos.

Those mischievous mismatched eyes sparkles no more, his handsome face older, worn, and bared in a horrifying rage. A fanatical rage.

Fear permeated the memory, a dread that sapped the strength from his limbs. The roiling press of war appeared to silence as the ground before their meeting cleared. Nobody wished to stand between their encounter.

The fear was almost overwhelming. Snape felt himself choking on the sensation. This was a man who was ready to flee.

But he did not. He drew his wand and approached, with the courage of a man ready to face the darkness within himself.

Snape awoke, pulse racing. He did not see the end of the confrontation but he recognised it instinctively for what it was.

And he recognised the blond man for who he was.

 _Grindelwald…_

Snape muffled a groan as he attempted to regain sense of reality. He parted the green drapes cautiously, noting the faint green filtering of light through the lake outside windows. It was morning, however too early for everyone to be up.

One of his roommates was scuttling about, picking through his belongings carefully and quietly, as if afraid to wake the others. Snape pulled open his drapes, startling the boy who apologised wordlessly and darted out of the room.

Miles Lester, a boy Snape could no longer remember, his name too had been a mystery until he heard a Professor call him in class. He could not fathom how someone he must have shared a room for seven years could have such a faint imprint on his memory.

Rolling out of bed gingerly Snape stretched and pulled on the back of his nightshirt cautiously. No sticking this time, no bleeding scabs. Perhaps he was finally healing.

With a soft motion the rattled not-so-young man sat on his bed edge, shaking the memories from his mind. When viewed from a Pensieve a memory was removed and distant, the viewer did not share in the subject's emotions of the moment. These dreams however were viewed from the core, steeped with personal regret, with fear and failure, with unrealised hope.

All emotions Snape did not need reminding of.

This would not do. He had enough regrets of his own without Albus Dumbledore's cluttering up his mind.

* * *

"Come in." Dumbledore beckoned from his desk, still pouring over the Pensieve dish. The exact position Snape had left him in the evening previous. "Ah Severus. Should you not be having breakfast?"

"I could ask you the same." Snape returned smoothly. He knew the headmaster did not grace breakfast until close to its conclusion, he simply wanted to lash out. The old man's memories was putting him on edge. It was discomforting to say the least.

Like he was given audience to a secret that should have gone to the grave.

"I have decided to forgo public appearances today." Dumbledore indicated to the memories floating within the Pensieve. Crystal bottles were already arranged in a container by the desk, undoubtedly for storing the memories to be fished from the bowl, preserved and organised. "You have given me much to work with Severus."

"Then I expect you do not need any more of my memories." Snape said almost hopefully.

The headmaster peered at him thoughtfully over his half-moon glasses. "Not right now. I've yet to finish sorting these, but I will summon you later tonight."

It honestly was too much to ask for. "Very well." Snape conceded. "But I do not wish to be the only man read like an open book."

A wariness passed over Dumbledore's face as he waved the younger man in and invited him to sit. An invitation he did not oblige. "I do believe you have already seen my worst memories Severus."

"And for some reason they were made so that I cannot avoid glancing into them while I sleep. I cannot discern what relevance they possess. Or fathom its content." Snape began to pace, uncertain how to express his frustration, or even understand what the source of his frustration was.

A gentle smile graced the headmaster's lips. "After witnessing your memories I find myself understanding why I might have given you mine."

 _So we'd be on equal footings this time._

"And I understand I must have considered you a precious friend to have wanted to help you in this manner."

"Help me?" Snape hissed. "How is giving me these scrambled visions of lugubrious dreams in anyway helpful?"

"Perhaps some empathy Severus." A small twist darkened the gentle smile of Albus Dumbledore. "To show you that you were not the only man to have fought to be loved, only to find bitter regret instead."

Suddenly silenced Snape froze mid step. In his mind emerged the memory of the nervous young boy shooting glances to the dark-wizard-to-be, the familiarity of the cloying emotion finally clicked in Snape's mind.

"That… I… It's different." Suppressing the growl in his tone was all the younger man could manage.

With a tired voice Dumbledore agreed. "Yes Severus. It's different."

Snape was agitated, he hadn't meant it as criticism. It was not a common occurrence in the wizarding world, but it was by no means illegal. Yet it was a hushed affair, something never spoken of, and never admitted by, even up to his own time. The once-Professor never formed an opinion on the matter, he was never given cause to.

Nothing should have to change in that regard.

"I only meant you… your regrets were not like mine." Snape shook his head. "You stopped before it consumed you."

"Before I became a dark wizard you mean?" Dumbledore asked lightly.

The younger man let out a rush of breath, unable to meet the eyes of the headmaster. It was his most foolish decision, one he still could not believe he had made. How? How could he have done what he did? How could he have been so hate-filled and stupid in his youth?

How could he have chosen such evil?

"We never journey onto the dark path believing we are evil Severus." Snape looked up in surprise, strengthening his mind walls instinctively but was not met by the sensation of Legilimency. "We walk our paths believing ourselves righteous. It is only at the journey's end, when we finally look back, do we realise how deep into the darkness we had slipped." A kind smile graced the old man's face. "That is the insidiousness of the dark side."

Snape scowled, still unwilling to meet the headmaster's piercing blue eyes. He didn't need metaphors and platitudes. If Dumbledore was offended by his reaction then he did not show it.

"There is nothing more I wish to say. I best be off." As the younger man stood from his seat, Dumbledore held his hand in a placating gesture.

"One moment Severus. Before you leave I wish to discuss your classes."

"I will attend them." Snape spat. Of all the things of vital importance, his dratted education was what Dumbledore fixated on.

"I'm very happy to hear that." Dumbledore said, his smile was sincere as far as Snape could tell. "However I understand you might find a direct repetition somewhat unstimulating. So I propose another solution."

"Give me my NEWTs and send me on my way?" The younger man muttered sardonically.

Dumbledore's smile took on a wry appearance. "Alas my solution is less efficient than that, but perhaps you might find it more gratifying."

"Doubt it." Snape sneered but waited patiently for the headmaster to get to the point.

With the beckon of his hand, Dumbledore summoned a plain wooden box from a shelf and set it upon the desk between them and waved over the younger man with an inviting gesture.

Snape ran his fingers down the length of the box, finding the two metal catches that held the two halves of the top closed. He flicked the box open and it split down the middle, breaking into multiple layers

"What is this?" Snape asked as he was faced by a collection of assorted ingredients that was comparable to that of a potion making kit. Bottled solutions sat in vials strapped to stable pockets, dried grasses, flowers and herbs were packed into labelled sliding compartments. Strangely there was one layer composed of nothing but metals and stones, inorganic substances that had no place in a potion. The centre piece of the box, sitting in a holder on the bottom-most layer was a flat round stone of an indistinct beige colour.

"It is an alchemy kit."

Snape startled, suddenly unwilling to touch it. Alchemy kits were notoriously expensive, so much so that it directly affected the availability of the class taught at Hogwarts. Alchemy was only offered on NEWTs level and could rarely be met with practical delivery due to how few students could satisfy its requirements. To gain entry into the class the student must have an OWL grade of Outstanding in both Potions and Transfiguration as well as the two hundred galleons needed to obtain their alchemy kit.

Needless to say this kit was more expensive than anything Snape's ever owned at this point in his life.

"I cannot afford this!" Snape growled, humiliated to have been forced to admit aloud something the headmaster should have known.

"It is a gift Severus."

"I do not need charity!" He spat.

With an understanding look, Dumbledore gave him a gentle placating nod. "Then think of it as an investment. A brilliant mind like yours with such expert knowledge in potioneering, I want you to be trained in alchemy Severus."

Snape glared with hateful intensity. He loathed being reminded of how little he had, and how much he had desired at this point in life. For Dumbledore to simply hand him the monetary equivalent of more than what his parents had ever provided him was galling.

"If you offer this to me because you wish for me to have a source of mental stimulation then you needn't bother."

"Then I offer it to you because you need a convenient excuse to meet with me at least once a week."

Snape frowned. "You do not teach alchemy."

Dumbledore smiled gently. "No. I do not. However as a professor you must be aware it is taught through a two-way-mirror by a teacher who never sets foot in the school."

Snape nodded stiffly. "I have only seen it taught twice, once by a witch in Kenya, and another time by an American wizard."

"Ah yes. Kayla and Ruthvin no doubt, or maybe Arnold. But I digress. The students only have access to their teachers once a week for an hour at a time. They need a tutor closer to hand for any questions they might have concerning this very difficult subject."

Understanding came to Snape. "And you are the only trained alchemist on staff."

His anger calmed, recognising the plan's practical value. This was not just for his own benefit. He needed to still exist among the students of Slytherin. Frequent associations with Albus Dumbledore would not be left unscrutinised.

Snape snapped the lid closed, its many layers sliding into place. "I accept your offer."

Dumbledore smiled. "First class is tomorrow, first period after break in classroom 7-D."

* * *

Autumn had not yet touched the leaves of the trees but brought with it a breeze that chased away the mugginess of summer.

With a sigh of relief Lily strode down from the paddocks by the forbidden forest, enjoying the cooling wind as it took away the smell of mooncalf dung. She honestly didn't know what she was doing in the Care of Magical creatures NEWTs class, she obviously didn't have a knack for it. As much as Lily loved these creatures they rarely loved her back. She's been bitten, scratched and gooped on more times than she could count, once she even got her hair set on fire by the errant fart of a fire crab. James had jumped to her rescue then, dunking her heroically into the trough, only realising belatedly a Water-Making Charm would have been just as effective and less messy. She didn't hold it against him however as she had been less than useless in her panic.

Today they were preparing the mooncalves for their moonlight romp, it was an event none of the students would get to witness as it would occur past their curfew. These shy little creatures did not come out of their burrows during the day, or in fact most nights, leaving their burrows only under the light of a full moon. The dung they produce that night had special potion-properties so hence the need to clean their burrows before the evening started. To cap it all off Lupin was absent from class today, leaving her partnerless for her burrow-cleaning exercise.

Lily supposed she could not hold it against him. Though he never spoke of it to her she already knew why he was absent. It was difficult to not notice the patterns of his illness.

 _Always on the full moon._

She was shaken out of her worried thoughts by the presence of another Marauder. One who never seemed to be too far away, or too affected by her constant rebukes.

"Good afternoon Potter." Lily greeted the boy politely as he trotted up from behind and fell into a casual step.

"Heya Evans." He put on a cool façade, casually running one hand through the back of his hair, making that messy nest stick up further. "Fancy seeing you here."

Lily rolled her eyes. "We just came down from the same class." James and his partner Black had spent nearly the entirety of class attempting to unearth one of those poor creatures, claiming if they had to shovel dung they should at least get to meet the thing. What part of 'Only during full moons' did they not understand?

If Potter was embarrassed to have been caught out he didn't show it. "Well I just attended a most fascinating Muggle Studies class this morning." He began, seemingly nonchalantly. "And could not help but think you'd be the most useful person to pose questions to."

Lily conceded, if it was study related she really can't fault him for utilising his resources. "Sure, fire away. I'm not exactly up to date with the muggle world but I'm fluent with the basics."

"Well there's this thing called a _cinema_. Where they have moving pictures. Aren't they just like our photographs then?"

"You could think of it that way..." Lily struggled to find a way to explain something she had never needed to explain before. "Only they're much bigger, like the size of a classroom wall. And these pictures are accompanied by sounds and music."

"For muggle entertainment." James nodded solemnly as if reciting from a textbook.

Lily nodded enthusiastically. "Correct."

"It sounds like a fascinating thing to see." James said, with almost a too casual wistfulness. "Would you be interested in giving me a tour of one of these _cinemas_?"

"I honestly wouldn't know where to begin with a tour." Lily was beginning to suspect this conversation was not just of academic interest.

"How about with a viewing of one of these moving pictures?" James asked eagerly. Yep she guessed it. A date.

"Did you know one of these moving pictures, or ' _movies_ ' as we call them, lasts for over an hour?"

James looked aghast. "Really?" He could barely sit still for the hour's duration of a class.

"Yes. Frequently up to two hours even." Lily could barely fight the smile trickling onto her face as the boy struggled with the thought of being shut in a room for two hours straight.

"Right. I don't think the _cinema_ is for me. Perhaps then this activity known as _bowling_?"

Before Lily could form an excuse a shout rang up across the field. "Hey Prongs! Quidditch Pitch is this way!" Sirius stood on the forking path, waving over to his friend.

Lily expected James to look annoyed at being interrupted in the middle of his attempts at flirtation but he conceded readily. "Right. We promised Wormtail we'd help him prepare for the Quidditch tryouts." Even as the team captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team James Potter wasn't going to let his friends on without qualification. He was the kind of friend who would go out of his way to do everything he could, short of nepotism to help his friend qualify. Lily couldn't help but smile, however unpleasant James could be, he was at least a true and loyal friend.

 _Why can't he always be like that?_

* * *

With lunch's end Lily had the whole rest of the day to herself. Sixth year was lighter on classes but unfortunately the homework load meant she couldn't enjoy the free time.

With a sigh she trudged into library, lugging a backpack heavy with textbooks and homework. She needed to at the very least get Transfigurations done, the homework was set on the very first class on Friday and she had waited till today, a Wednesday to start. It wasn't the very last minute but it was still cutting it mighty fine.

Sneaking by the irate Madam Pince Lily searched for an empty table, or at least a table with familiar faces to share with. Almost immediately she spotted the one familiar face she didn't want to see and darted behind a shelf.

Severus Snape was sitting alone in his corner, working hard as she always knew him to do. He was likely completing his charms essay, he never left his homework long.

After Slughorn took him out of Charms class yesterday he never showed up for Herbology. Professor Sprout had taken his homework to Lily and asked her to pass it on to him. The good natured Professor must not have heard about the falling out they had. It took Lily a good awkward minute to explain that they had ended their friendship. The concept appeared foreign to the kindly Hufflepuff, and highly upsetting.

Lily's heart twisted, wondering who now would bring him his homework when he missed class? Who would he sit with to study? Would he always be alone in the library?

That empathy turned to annoyance almost immediately when Slytherins emerged from the shelves beyond where she hid and dropped messily into the seats surrounding Snape. Avery, Mulciber, Rosier, the whole snakey gang.

 _What was I even worried about? He has 'friends.'_

Lily stalked away in a huff, picking the seat furthest from Snape as she could manage, inserting herself into a group of startled third year Ravenclaws. Almost sulking Lily pulled out her Transfigurations homework and measured out the required length of parchment.

Her attempt to ignore the Slytherins was thwarted when a sudden commotion arose. Loud arguing could be heard from even her side of the library, and like a storm to the beat of a Thunderbird's wings Madam Pince was immediately at the site of the disturbance. Her screeches of "Out!" echoed through the chamber, chasing out the pack of unruly boys.

Head bowed low Lily could not help but bitterly feel they somehow deserved it, despite not knowing what had happened and why. Slytherins were after all, entirely dark wizards and death eaters in the making. The House must have been founded upon the principles of being unpleasant, cruel and evil.

How else could she explain how the darkness was able to take her best friend so completely?

* * *

Furious, Snape hefted his bag over his shoulder and marched down the library corridor.

"Hey! Don't you walk away from me!" A large grubby paw grabbed a tuft of Snape's robes, swinging him around to meet the snarling face of Mulciber.

Snape had been calmly working on his Herbology essay when his Slytherin 'friends' approached. His homework was brought to him by Avery the evening before. Apparently Sprout had been close to tears when she asked Avery to take it to him, something the rat-like boy couldn't make heads or tails of. She had been perfectly cheerful during class.

When Avery, Muciber and Rosier arrived they sat down and immediately demanded Snape hand over his Defence homework, evidently not there to complete the studies themselves. So like any conscientious professor, Snape had advised them that they were better served finding resources and completing it independently. That did not sit well with the larger boy.

"If your reaction to not getting your way over a little homework is to roughhouse like a muggle you'll be several degrees of useless to any lord willing to take you." Snape spat, completely disregarding the fact the other boy was a good head and a half taller and had his collar gripped in his gigantic mitts.

Snape was slammed so hard against the wall that he briefly saw stars as pain shot up through his back. "I don't know what's gotten into you lately Snape but I will not tolerate this." Muciber hissed, spittle flecking the smaller Slytherin's face. Down the hall a young Hufflepuff turned and darted back down the corridor, his need of the library apparently no longer a priority.

"Whoa there Mulciber." Rosier inserted himself rather heroically into the conflict. "Perhaps Snape's right. It's our NEWT years. We can't afford to simply cruise on his efforts anymore."

Apparently reason was to win the day. Mulciber released his grip and the smaller boy stumbled away, adjusting his torn collar. Snape cast a quick wordless Repairing Charm on the damage and it stitched itself together imperfectly, creating a thin worn patch. His robes were getting tattier and tattier.

A thick finger jabbed into Snape's chest as Mulciber growled, apparently not done with him. "Watch yourself Snape. I suggest you not tick me off again. Remember your place."

With barely hidden disdain Snape replied. "You give a tall ask, prohibiting something so easily and unintentionally achieved." Anger flared again on the larger boy's face. Snape instinctively took one step back out of arm's reach.

"Ever since your humiliation by the lake you've been worse than useless. Pining away for that mudblood like the blood-tainted filth you are." He spat. "What, was she repelled by the sight of your balls? I suppose even mudbloods have standards."

Snape felt his anger flare red hot. Had he been a young man he might have attacked Mulciber here and now, swinging at him with his yet unexperienced but well-practiced spellcasting. Maybe he would have even won, three to one.

But Snape was a different man now. More cunning. More patient.

"I wonder Mulciber, if you heaving your weight about so desperately isn't a symptom of a fear that your time on the top is ending." Snape let that sentence sit, watching the dark rage build behind the larger boy's eyes. "I wonder, between the two of us who is the better wizard? I wonder what would happen if I were to… step out of line?" A flicker of fear darted across Mulciber's rage-contorted face. Dense as a brick he may be but he did not doubt who'd come out on top in a contest of spell power between the two. Behind him surprise was stamped across the features of Avery and Rosier. Mulciber could not let this go and save face now.

But the boy simply had no idea how vast their difference was now.

"Pathetic." Snape spat and he spun around and swept down towards the staircase. His billowing cloak not quite having the same effect when it was worn and filled with holes.

"Snape!" He heard the boy roar. The thumping of his feat tore down after him.

 _This isn't the place._

Quickening his step, Snape found the staircase and darted down as quickly as he could, the lumbering great footsteps getting closer behind him.

 _Not yet. I need more to witness._

As a young man Snape never realised exactly how much power he could have commanded with his cunning and ability. He had been too eager to please, too shy to act, and too inept to harness his strengths.

As an older and wiser man, a man whose life had been completely embroiled in the movement of power between Slytherins, both within Hogwarts and without, he knew how to move the dynamics in the House of Snakes.

Snape slowed his step on the Entry Hall landing. Students were returning from the grounds, first and third years mostly. Slytherins knitted among their numbers.

This was to be the stage.

"FACE ME SNAPE!" Came the huffing bellow of Mulciber, barrelling down the stairs.

Snape was beginning to grow short of breath too, having only jogged most of the way down from the first floor it was a worrying sign of how little stamina his younger body possessed.

As his foot hit the ground floor Snape slowed to a walk, pacing out in a large arc, parting the tiny students before him. They stared, wide eyed as the two older boys squared off.

With an out of breath growl Mulciber flicked his wand violently upwards. Snape brushed aside that poorly cast wordless Levicorpus. Undoubtedly Mulciber sought to down him with a method that had proved successful on him in the past. He had more thinking capacity than Snape had given him credit for.

But it would do him no good.

With a dark smile and barely a flick of the wand, Mulciber's legs suddenly snapped together and he fell roughly onto his hands and knees. The larger boy struggled uselessly against the Leg-Locker curse having dropped his wand in surprise.

With two quick strides Snape was upon him, yanking up the head the head of his defeated opponent and pressing his wand to the larger boy's throat.

"Remember your place." Snape said silkily, repeating to him the boy's own words.

Snape's eyes flickered upwards to the two watching from the top of the Entrance Hall's stairs, Rosier and Avery, disbelief etched upon their face. With a sweep of his cloak Severus released Mulciber and stalked off. Flicking his wand behind him in an almost casual motion to dispel the curse he set upon his opponent. Knowing full well a new memory was burnt into the minds of every witness today. Leaving no doubt of where the power laid within the House of the Snake.

* * *

A/N: Warning to all readers Dumbledore will be featuring heavily in this Snape story. He was the only character Snape had ever worked closely with that hadn't been on Voldemort's side.

There are many Snape fans that wholly loath the headmaster and his manipulations, and I understand why that must be. It is difficult not to empathise with the characters and take their plights personally. That being said Snape is not a wholly wholesome character in himself, but I do not believe the he is a bad person, just like I do not believe that of Albus Dumbledore or of James Potter to be either. The wonderful thing about the universe of Harry Potter is that none of the characters are one dimensional, there's good and terrible things about the greatest characters of its world.

This is a story about redemption, it is useless if Snape has done no wrong to need it. It would simply not do to treat other characters like they do not deserve the chance to do so as well.

Next Update: Friday 7th April 2017 AEDT.

Chapter 5: Patience of a Slytherin

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	5. Patience of a Slytherin

**Chapter 5: Patience of a Slytherin**

News of the disturbance travelled fast.

When Lily stepped into the Gryffindor Common Room it was abuzz with excited chatter. The Gryffindor prefect had spent the afternoon in the silence of the library and as such had missed the events that sparked such a flurry of excitement. She had been completing her transfigurations essay. It had been on the limitations of transfiguration from non-living to living, an entirely too complicated paper for just the first week back.

"-And that big one just went down, like it was nothin' at all!" A third year Gryffindor boy recounted to a receptively listening audience composed of students of all manner of year groups.

"What's going on?" Lily asked as she dropped into an overstuffed armchair next to her friend and roommate Marlene. The blond girl was garbed in her Quidditch gear but her hair was still tied neatly in place so evidently she bad been headed out before a change of mind.

"Trouble with the Slytherins." Marlene answered in a hushed voice, eyes still on the speaker.

"Who did they attack?" Lily asked, suddenly filled with dread. If it caused such commotion it had to be serious.

Slowly Marlene shook her head. "It sounds like… they attacked each other."

Lily's eyes widened with surprised as she turned her attention back to the little third year who was being peppered with questions from the gathered crowd. An older boy from the fifth year cohort had entered behind Lily and subsequently also missed the entire story. "Hey kid, what happened?"

"Me and my buddy saw it." The storyteller answered. "Two Slytherins fighting. The guy who lost was this big guy, some older Slytherin, toppled by this bloke half his size with a huge hooked nose."

Lily started, Marlene looked at her sharply.

"-it was a totally unexpected result. The big guy was bellowing and stomping his feet, chasing that small one down the stairs. It didn't look like the smaller guy could have gotten away, he looked as if he were done for. Except he didn't run, just calmly turned and took the ogre down with one flick of the wand."

Lily stood suddenly and asked, "This little guy with the big nose. Did you catch his name?"

The young Gryffindor hesitated but his friend and fellow witness peeped up. "Yeah the big guy was shouting it. I think it was Snake or something?"

"Snape." Lily muttered, dread beating in her chest.

"Yeah that's it!" The main speaker nodded. "That smaller bloke was named Snape. Never noticed him before but he was sure terrifying."

"Whats this about a terrifying Snape?" James had chosen that moment to enter through the portrait hole. Having been practicing Quidditch he undoubtedly missed the commotion as well. Strangely his hair did not appear as messy as it usually did after an afternoon spent zipping about his broom.

"Snape took down another Slytherin in the entrance hall." The boy repeated himself again. "Just downed the bigger bloke it were nothin'"

"Snivellus attacked another Slytherin?" Black frowned as he entered the portrait after James.

"Yeah, just brushed aside the other guy's jinx like it was nothing and locked him down with a leg-locker. He didn't stand a chance." The second boy continued excitedly. "Then that Snape guy just walked up to him and pointed his wand at him as if he was going to hex his face off and then just left him there."

"Did he threaten him?" Black demanded.

"I didn't hear anything. But yeah. I suppose he might have."

James and Black exchanged dark glances. Lily felt a shiver of dread.

 _Is he falling out with the other Slytherins?_

A hand gripped her sleeve and pulled her back into her seat. "Don't get involved." Marlene whispered to her warningly.

Slowly Lily shook her head. "I won't. It's no longer my business." She shot a thankful glance at her concerned friend. Since her fallout with Snape all her girlfriends had been extra protective, keeping her firm on the decision she had made.

Ensuring she would not recant on her promise to herself, no matter no matter how sorry she felt for him.

 _He was a toxic friend._

 _This isn't my problem anymore._

* * *

"Alas, I'm afraid I cannot offer you wine for legal reasons." Dumbledore lamented as he poured a steaming cup of Elderberry tea.

Snape turned an appraising eye at the suspect murky liquid. "I don't drink alcohol."

"How commendable." Dumbledore smiled, conjuring a porcelain cup for himself.

When Dumbledore had summoned the younger man he had fully expecting him to come after dinner but instead Snape came straight up avoiding the Great Hall in its entirety.

He was planning on giving the Slytherins time to react to Mulciber's very public humbling, and he found in times like this it was best he made himself as scarce as possible. Snape, at this age at least, did not cut an intimidating figure and his own presence undermined the psyche he was attempting to instil.

Instead when the not-so-young student arrived at the headmaster's office, having not eaten since lunch, his stomach made its conundrum known. Dumbledore did not begrudge him dinner, nor send him down to the dining hall, instead simply summoned a House Elf and procured one order of "Whatever you fine gentlemen recommend."

Snape picked up his fork and appraised his plate of lasagne piled high. This rich fare, heavy with meat and cheese, and this late in the evening he was not going to have a happy digestive system when he settles to sleep. But that mattered little when the pasta, hot and fresh from the kitchen warmed the gnawing hollow pit of his gut.

"I hear you had quite the eventful day."

Snape finished chewing before he answered. "I needed to rearrange my living situation." He took a quick sip of the searing tea and couldn't help but pull a disgusted face. It was sweet. He hated sweet.

Dumbledore appeared thoughtful. "Fighting on school grounds is still prohibited in your time is it not?"

"I find that rules often only apply if you are caught."

"Even I cannot spare you from detention and point-deduction if it is justly earned."

Returning to his meal Snape rolled his eyes. He could not believe a system such like that could enforce any measure of control, yet the results often speak positively in this regard. The comprehensible scope of youth was entirely too narrow.

Concern wrinkled the headmaster's brow. "Severus. Though your actions can be interpreted as schoolyard antics I advise you caution. Slytherins are known for their sharp eyes and sharp minds. You do not wish for whispers of you to reach the ears of our enemy."

Chewing slowly Snape lowered his fork against the plate. "There appears a more efficient solution. You have suspected dangerous seeds sown among your students and I have confirmed them for you. Why are you not acting against these them?"

A wariness fell across the headmaster's features. "Because Severus. They are not yet Death Eaters."

"They will be!" His knuckles bared white against his clenching hand. "I have witnessed their future. Their choices are clear."

Dumbledore fixed him with his clear blue eyes, causing him to dive for the shelter of his Occlumency. "You too had been on that path. Right alongside these children."

Gritting his teeth Snape averted his eyes. "I chose to turn my back on the darkness."

"And you were given the chance to choose."

Snape went rigid in his seat.

Silence permeated the room, broken only by the occasional whistle and clank of the gizmos that lined the shelf. After a moment the headmaster finally spoke. "Are you ready to continue our session?"

Snape nodded, pushing his plate of half-eaten pasta aside. The meal sat heavy in the pit of his stomach but he knew he would be hungry again before the night was over. With a blink the plate disappeared with its half-eaten fare, whisked away by the unseen magic of house elves.

With a wave of hand Dumbledore summoned the Pensieve to settle between them once more, surface sitting still and clear, awaiting the memories Snape reluctantly offered.

"I wish to learn of the second war." Dumbledore bade, as if it was the simplest request.

Snape took a deep breath, mentally and physically preparing himself for the memory the headmaster demanded. With wary resolve he met the headmaster's blue eyes.

 _Night had fallen, darkness permeated the manor, leeching out the colours from the walls and portraits, colours that not even the flickering firelight could restore. A distinct chill was in the air that no fire could touch, a chill that should not have existed on a warm summer's night. The Malfoy manor was unwelcoming and clinical at the best of times, yet it had never felt more like a crypt._

 _Snape knelt before the throne like seat, his lined face set still like stone. No emotion touched his features, no light touched his eyes as he turned those dark orbs up to those glinting red ones._

" _My. Severus. What a surprise." A rasping laughter crawled its way out of that inhuman throat. "Here I feared I would have to expend some effort in finding you."_

 _Snape bowed his head, if the precariousness of his situation weighed on him he did not let it show upon his face. "My Lord I remain your true and faithful servant."_

" _Do you Severus?" In a sudden fluid motion the snake-like figure arose from his seat, stepping towards the man kneeling before him. "Because I hear you turned traitor for Dumbledore."_

" _I used every means available to remain at my post in Hogwarts, as per my order. The fruits of my effort is fourteen years of intelligence." He could feel a small droplet of sweat sliding slowly down his neck. "I remain faithful My Lord."_

" _Meet my eyes. Show me."_

 _He did not steel himself with a breath, he could ill afford to. He lifted his black eyes and unveiled his mind. Unveiling the first layer of many._

 _His eyes blurred with the visions of Dumbledore's ministrations, Dumbledore's words, Dumbledore's actions. Any events he had witnessed of the headmaster had been leached from his mind so quickly he could barely comprehend them._

 _Yet they were simply memories pre-selected to be surrendered. Information enough to appear useful, to appear honest. To appear as if he was offering all that he could, while their true conversations lay many layers deeper._

 _Something the Dark Lord came quickly to suspect._

 _Snape felt the pressure upon the first Occluded section of his mind. "Surely Severus, you cannot believe me unaware when you hide things from me." He felt a ringing tap upon that metaphorical wall. "What is it you are occluding?"_

 _Here begins the true test._

" _It is nothing My Lord. Nothing of concern. It is a simple matter of private-"_

" _Nothing is private when you serve me. I. Own. You. You_ _ **will**_ _open your mind."_

 _Snape hesitated a fraction, but he was not given more than that. Pain seared through his body as a scream was torn through him. He felt the first crack upon his mind wall._

 _He sprawled, panting on the floor as the snake like man paced around him, long toe nails clacking upon the marble floor. He was not given long of a respite when he felt a force pull his spine straight, bringing his body upright meeting those red eyes once more. That probing force once more met his Occluded mind, once again repelled. He read anger upon that serpentine face the split second before he was writhing on the floor once again._

 _This time when his wall met the forceful intrusion of Legilimency it shattered. Snape allowed it to be so, knowing he had reached the limit of his master's patience._

 _Memories poured past his eyes, shameful memories, humiliating ones, depraved ones, ones he usually buried far deeper. Moments of weakness, moments of shame. Moments all men possessed, and few willing to admit._

 _Fewer still among Slytherins, where weakness was a sin and pride was a cloak._

 _Yet these galling memories served their purpose. The Dark Lord withdrew, satisfied that this was all Snape was hiding, for no Slytherin could imagine anyone choosing to bare their weakness willingly. He could not imagine anything that could be hidden deeper than one's own shame._

 _Snape lay gasping on the floor, finally released from the Dark Lord's grasp, body still wracked with pain. He screwed tight his eyes, willing the humiliation to go away, to return back beneath the surface of his mind._

" _I believe you Severus." Came the prickling voice. The relief washed over him, dulling the pain. "But I'm afraid I cannot simply leave it at that." Immediately Snape tensed. "For you see. I, the man who is immortal, touched upon death because of advice you had given." His voice took on a deadly softness._

 _Snape struggled off his floor, finding his knees. Head bowed as his body swayed, muscles jittery from the after effects of the Cruciatus Curse. "M-My Lord. I had no idea th-that was what the prophecy-"_

" _There was a little mudblood wasn't there?"_

 _Snape went rigid. "My Lord?" He did not lift his head._

" _Yes. I distinctly remember you asking me to spare her. A mudblood you desired."_

 _Snape felt his spine curl back as his eyes met the Dark Lord's once more. He bade the jitter in his voice to still. "…She was beautiful My Lord." He felt the bile rise in his throat. "But there is beauty aplenty in the world." Every fibre of his being shrivelled with revulsion at his own words. "She is nothing to me."_

 _A horrifying scene burned into his mind. A memory of a young woman pleading for the life of her son. Her green eyes wide with horror as she knew it would be inevitable. A fate she could not prevent. Then, in the matter of a moment, the life in those eyes snuffed out._

 _Snape gasped, reeling, rejecting that image with every fibre of his being. Then realised with horror through the power of Legilimency it had been planted within his mind, like a true memory of his own._

 _Those red eyes were watching, he had to take control of himself._

 _His gasps slowed, as if he was recovering from the shock of those foreign memories. Slowly he pressed down every thought, every emotion spinning out of control, and closed it deep within himself._

 _A sinister smile graced the serpentine face of the Dark Lord. "I believe you Severus. Keep my memory of her as a gift. You are right. She,_ _ **was**_ _, very beautiful."_

In the security of the headmaster's office once more Snape slumped in his seat. He could feel the burn of the curse still tingling in his skin, a phantom from the memory, yet it was the dullest pain to be had that terrible night.

Those blue eyes were still fixed upon his, now filled with wretched pity. Those memories now rippled upon the surface of the Pensieve, the first of many horrifying visions tonight.

"I'm very sorry for what you had to endure on my behalf."

Snape scowled at the swirling memories. "It wasn't for you." The pain settled as he pushed that memory back under his consciousness. No matter how painful that day had been, it had been but a small note upon his guilt ridden life. The memory of her murder had now become a memory of his own. It haunted his dreams and hounded his waking life.

But her death had always been his guilt to bear.

 _My fault._

A small smile touched the face of the headmaster. "I think I can see why I trusted you so." He stood to collect a crystal vial from the shelf. "You are a loyal man. Willing to endure so much for a love long lost." Unstoppering the empty crystal vial, Dumbledore set about emptying the Pensieve. "However, in our time, I do believe she is alive."

"Yes." Snape growled, the knowledge soothed him, pulling him out of the spiral of despair his memories always invoked.

But she was already beyond his reach.

Dumbledore slowly carried the vial of memory back to the cabinet, stowing it into a magically locked compartment. "Am I right in guessing you will do whatever it takes to ensure her survival?"

Snape looked up sharply. "Always."

Turning back around a smile played upon the headmaster's lips. An already filled crystal vial held in his hand. "The memories you had first gifted me." He poured it into the Pensieve. Colours swirled within as images began to meld together. "One that I invite you to witness. I believe you are someone I can trust to assist."

Snape leaned forward and the headmaster nodded with a sombre warning. "Remember Severus. Discretion."

* * *

Dark thoughts haunted Snape as he trudged down the Grand Staircase and through the dark silent castle into the dungeons. In his hand grasped a hall pass excusing his past-curfew roaming, written by the headmaster. As he stepped onto the Entrance Hall Flight, he stopped briefly by a window, allowing the autumn breeze to billow around him. Reluctant to enter his Slytherin quarters. Reluctant to reinsert himself into his mundane role.

The rest of the evening had been devoted to retrieving more memories from that previous life, continuing the story of the second war. Despite the isolation of those years, these memories had been easier than the actual years themselves. Purpose had been his sanctuary, sheltering him from the suffocation.

Perhaps purpose could be his sanctuary once more.

Snape breathed out, closing his eyes against the tickling wind. Willing settle his restless soul to settle.

If only he could dedicate himself to the war. If only he could focus only on his greatest goal in life. His only goal in life.

Ensuring Lily's safety.

The truth of the Dark Lord's immortality was his gain for the night, a reward for his two lifetimes of service. Dumbledore offered the knowledge to him, to share the weapon Snape had handed over.

Knowledge.

Six Horcruxes. That was the Dark Lord's secret. Each an anchor for his consciousness. But in this day and age only five of those six were currently created. So long as even a single one exists the Dark Lord could not be killed. They were of the darkest of magic, knowledge within his own realm of expertise. But even with knowledge Snape was at a loss as to how even to begin. The dead Dumbledore's memories showed him what form each of them were suspected to take, and the locations of only three of them.

The Cup of Hufflepuff, speculated to have been hidden behind a trick wall within an old abandoned orphanage, guarded by apparitions and spell traps. The original Dumbledore never had the opportunity to test that theory, as by the time he found a solution to that gauntlet the artefact had been removed. Then there was the ring. The ring that brought about the great wizard's fall, the one that belonged to the Dark Lord's grandfather. It laid hidden under the floorboards of an old shack, trapped with spells and enchanted with a deadly curse. And finally a necklace, hidden in a mysterious underground lake. The location of the diary was as of yet unknown but at the very least they knew what form it took. As for that cursed snake Nagini, she was yet to exist, so that left one mysterious article yet to be identified.

Snape braced his hand against the smooth stonework of the window, his knuckles going white from his grip. He could not fathom how he could possibly use this information stuck in this blasted school. When he mentioned this frustration to Dumbledore, the man responded in his usual infuriating manner, "Leave that part to me."

 _What assistance does he want from me then?_

With a frustrated sigh Snape leant his head against the cool stonework of the wall. His eyes gazing distantly out the window at the brightly lit grounds, but with a wary glance upwards he finally noticed the full moon. Stumbling back, a shiver of fear touched his heart. Snape remembered what implications that had in this day and age. That was all the inspiration he needed to hurry his way down into the Slytherin quarters.

* * *

The common room was quiet when he entered. Most had already gone off to bed. A few stragglers were still up, young boys of third or fourth year, sitting by the fireplace and conversing in hushed tones. Upon Snape's entrance they glanced up curiously only to look away hurriedly as if they feared to be caught making eye contact. Avery and Rosier sat together in a corner, fixing their upstart roommate with a wary stare, no sign of commitment upon their features.

That could mean good news or bad news.

Keeping his head up and back straight Snape strode purposefully to the stairs that wound deeper down underground to the dormitories. He could not show weakness now that he had bared his fangs.

A matter of appearance, a matter of perception. In the game of manipulations Snape had the advantage. He had played this game for longer than many of these children have been alive.

With almost a swagger Snape pushed the door open, not hard enough to upset the opposite wall but with enough gusto to dispel any notion of meekness. Eyes were immediately upon him from his roommates within. Lester hurriedly yanked closed the hangings of his bed, peeking meekly from the gap in the corner. Snape had overheard snide comments from the halls that the boy was muggle-born, which explained much in the way as to why the boy had been beneath his notice.

Casting his eyes about the room he noted the candles burning on their stubs at each bedside table, the only one darkened was the wick at Mulciber's bedside. The boy likely retreated behind his curtains to lick his wounds. That was a positive sign for how today's events were received. The only other soul to be accounted for was Sebastian Urquart, his fifth and final roommate. The boy sat up in bed, reading by wand light. After the first glance he barely spared Snape another.

Urquart was the aloof Slytherin, outcast by choice. He had never associated with the rest of his House and unlike Lester, Snape remembered this one. Urquart's uncle had been a senior officer at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, and the only other serious contender for the seat when Bartemius Crouch took over, a fact frequently mentioned by Slughorn. What he didn't remember was what happened to the boy. At the very least he knew for certain Urquart had never followed his peers into the darkness. That was unfortunately a fairly bleak diagnosis for his fate.

If things go belly up there was a possibility for an alliance with that boy.

Without a word or gesture of acknowledgement Snape prepared for bed. Back to the wall he stripped slowly and deliberately despite the wounds upon his back. He knew nothing drew attention like haste.

Without so much as a glance upwards he slipped on his nightshirt. His rough scabs gripped along the threadbare material but at the least it was mercifully clean, the night elves always ensured it so. It hung too short upon his body, barely reaching all the way down his torso revealing his greying boxers. Snape scowled in embarrassment. The lack of privacy to be found in a boy's dormitory was just something he had to get used to again.

He slipped into bed and pulled shut the drapes, his wand still in hand. He would not be sleeping with it in his bag ever again.

Silently he enveloped himself with surveillance wards and silencing spells, undetectable to the unskilled and the not-yet-fully-trained. Snape did not know whether his dreams leaked from him through words or motion, he's never had the means to find out how he slept. He's certainly never had anyone who's seen him sleep, not since the death of his parents. Even they might never have cared enough to investigate his nightmares.

In the sanctuary of his silencing charm Snape began to lay down his wards. Not any kind that would physically repel an attacker. Subtlety was key. If any approached he would be awoken instead and before they can even brush open his tapestries he'll have a wand to their throat. He'll not hide like a coward but he'll not be defenceless.

Snape slid his wand beneath his pillow, content to close his eyes. At the very least he trusted himself and was content to rest while his wards kept watch. Alone he might be but he was still a fully trained wizard.

While his enemies were just children.

* * *

Those dreams swirled about once more. Dancing within Snape's mind, weaving a tale of love and loss that was not his own. However they were fainter now. Colours no longer as vivid. Emotions no longer as crushing.

Mismatched mischievous eyes stared at him through the faded dream. "For the greater good." Came the indistinct voice, fading into the grey.

The body of the young girl, Arianna, centred in his vision. The emotion of choking grief was muted and distant.

" _I blame you most of all!"_ Came the warbled scream as those accusing blue eyes bore into him, set in that indistinct face contorted with rage.

Snape awoke suddenly, released from the tendrils of his dream. Reaching slowly under his pillow he gripped the smooth handle of his wand. It did not feel like a disturbance of his wards but still disorientated from his dreams he did not wish to risk it.

With a swift sweep Snape cut through his silencing charm. He lay still, listening, hearing nothing but his own slow breaths. The minutes ticked by as nothing came to disturb him, the tension left his body. He was simply awoken from restless sleep, a common occurrence in his previous life, something he expects will return to him now that the life-like dreams from Dumbledore's memories were fading.

Snape stared at the canopy of his four-poster bed, closing his eyes and easing his breathing, willing himself back to sleep. He knew it would be impossible before he even tried. Now that he was released from the grips of sleep his insomnia would return, and with it the worries of the world of the waking.

Why had Dumbledore given him those memories? Evidentially he had taken great care to package them in a way they would not intrude upon his day or meld into his own memories, but trickle gently through his subconscious into his dreams. But even his time with these dreams were drawing to an end and Dumbledore's memories were fading from his mind.

 _Truly why did he show me those memories?_

He was given a glimpse of the Albus Dumbledore hidden from the world. The Albus Dumbledore that did not wish to be known, and frankly, the Albus Dumbledore he did not ask to know. Behind the wise and powerful man ran a river of regrets as deep as the darkness of his mistakes. He loved a man who nearly lead him down into the darkness, a mistake that would have rivalled Snape's own. But in the end he did not choose that path.

 _Given the chance to choose._

Snape had chosen badly in his youth, he knew. He was tempted stupidly into the darkness, led by his foolish belief that power would somehow win Lily's affection, driven further when his heart could not deal with its hurt. Given his choice again he would never choose that path again. No matter the hurt. No matter his solitude.

 _Love is not for everyone. Was that your message to me?_

Snape scowled and turned in his bed. If that was what Dumbledore was trying to tell him he needn't bother. Snape became a wiser man after being burned by his foolish heart. He knew now as he had known for years, for an entire lifetime. He would never be loved.

 _And this time I'm brave enough to face that knowledge._

With those dark thoughts swirling about his mind Snape finally accepted he would not be sleeping again this night. He dragged himself upright and out of bed deciding a long hot soak in the shower was the only way to accommodate the loss of rest.

Ordinarily he would roam the halls when sleep did not come. As a student that was not an option. Many familiar habits were no longer an option for him. Habits that he once used to cope with the stress and loneliness of his life.

He gathered his change of clothes from his sparse selection. Scowling at the rags he has to put up with now. Dignity was apparently too much to ask for. But that would always be the case. Dignity would always be something he struggled for, no matter how fine a garb he clad himself in, no matter how brilliant a mind he proved himself to have, no matter how high a position he took for himself.

Stepping out of the dorm he climbed slowly up the narrow stairwell, feeling the burdens of his lives press down upon his shoulders. Knowing all too well that it will never get any easier.

In many ways it only ever got harder.

* * *

Early to breakfast again, Snape sat in his usual corner.

His long dark hair hung down in wet clumps, leaving damp patches on his frayed patchy shoulders. His soak under the running water for an hour and a half only served to bring his mentality into a worsening spiral of self-loathing. He clenched his wrinkled fingers, willing his thoughts away. Soon he would no longer be blissfully alone, soon he would return to student life at Hogwarts and the role he had to play.

That was what his life was, a series of masquerades. That is what his life is to be again.

Students began to trickle into the hall, taking their places along their respective Houses' tables. The Slytherins who entered, second years, eyed Snape cautiously and chose seats diplomatically close to the centre, not so close as to look like they associated with him but not so far as to offend him. His previous day's display had bought him some clout it seemed.

As the food began to materialise the door to the entrance hall opened fully and with it came the breakfast crowd. Snape piled his plate high with eggs beans and toast, his hunger this morning was so severe he even decided to add two links of sausages to his morning diet. He poured himself a hot mug of black tea, wishing it was coffee, watching the crowds out of the corner of his eye, noting any changes to the Slytherin dynamic.

Most were avoiding his corner, some quite obviously, some more subtly. Others took their original seats, not seeming to care about the commotion and what that meant for their place within the House. They were likely the ones who chose neutrality like Urquart, but less obtusely.

Rosier arrived, first of the sixth years, eyes meeting Snape's directly. Without hesitation the boy took his place opposite his fellow sixth year and pulled up a plate. They ate in amicable silence for several minutes while the return of status quo rattled about in Snape's skull. Had he made no impression upon the boy, or was this Rosier declaring his shift of support?

Then Mulciber entered the hall and the entire table went silent. The entire hall even perhaps, as not a peep of conversation could be heard over the clatters and scrapes of forks on plates. Snape met his eyes briefly, seeing the burn of hatred there. Without a word the large boy seated himself at the other end of the table, very deliberately away from Snape. Avery came in on Mulciber's tail and after a brief glance along the table he followed Mulciber to his seat.

The seventh years chose to seat themselves where their traditional places upon the table had been, seemingly unaffected by the squabbling of their underclassmen. Only two of their numbers were part of their Death Eater gang. Maxen Wilkes and Richton Travers, Death Eaters in the making and future members of the Inner Circle. They sat diplomatically towards the centre of the table, refusing to lend their support to either Mulciber or Snape, content to watch how this played out.

A small shake up in Slytherin dynamics, something that put everyone on edge but had not changed its overall face. Snape tried not to give himself away with a glower. He rattled the cage but did not unseat the birds. These children were not as eager to tear down a weaker of their members as Slytherin adults had been. Had Snape done this to another Death Eater that man would find himself very quickly out of favour.

Perhaps that was the difference between adults and children. They were not yet as eager to destroy one another. Twice as eager to attack, but rarely ever to deal any lasting harm.

"You're right, you are the superior wizard." Snape turned his eyes cautiously to Rosier who didn't even glance up as those words passed his lips. "And the superior Slytherin too it seems, doing what you did."

Snape returned to his meal too, arranging his food neatly and deliberately. "Flattery will not get you homework answers."

A small twisted smile appeared on Rosier's lips. "Somehow that appeared to be implied."

Rosier's eyes turned down the table and Snape followed his stare to where Mulciber and Avery were sitting. "His father was one of _**his**_ right hand men you know?" Rosier muttered. "One of the first…"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Who could forget?" He replied, taking a small bite of his neatly arranged meal.

"Yet with all of that pedigree, I somehow think you've managed to prove you are likely to stand above him in that world." Rosier returned to his meal as well, not even glancing up as he spoke his ominous words. That had been the case, Snape rose to that very position in his previous life, while Mulciber wallowed in the fringes.

A position he would no longer pursue in the course of this retry. But that was not something to confess, not at this time, not to these people.

"You are gambling early, placing your bets on me." Snape muttered, balancing his tone as to not sound ungrateful nor eager.

Rosier gave a grim half smile as he looked up from his toast and marmalade. "Intimidation was Mulciber's only commodity. Was. Call it a calculated wager."

Sharing a thin lipped smirk they both returned to their breakfast. Snape knew this support was conditional, as was any offer given by a Slytherin. The moment weakness was shown was the moment favour expired. For now Rosier threw his lot in with Snape but in doing so proved to the wise old Slytherin that this boy was as cunning a snake as any Snape had the displeasure of knowing. Perhaps had Rosier not died in Snape's previous life, hunted down by the Auror Mad-Eye Moody himself, he would have been a true thorn in his side. Another cunning player in the game of power he had to outwit. It would not do to let his guard down around Evan Rosier.

A flash of red caught Snape's eye, he could not help but glance up from his breakfast. Lily had walked in, seating herself in her usual seat at the middle of the Gryffindor table. Her green eyes glanced up briefly, meeting Snape's own, and for a split second he thought she might actually be looking at him. But it appeared not to be, as without a hint of acknowledgement or change in expression Lily turned to converse with the brunette seated beside her.

Snape turned his eyes back down to his plate, but not before catching Rosier's eyes. The boy did not say anything but the wise old Slytherin knew better than to assume the boy did not realise who Snape had been looking at. His weakness has been known for years.

 _Weakness?_

Let them believe that. She was no longer just a memory, more than a guiding light of loss and regret, or even a reminder to Snape that in this life at least he had not yet committed his most grievous of sins. She was his courage, and strength, the only purpose that could sustain his world now. There were no lengths he would not go to ensure she lived. That she was safe. That she was happy.

Even if it meant never entering her life again.

 _Let them try me_ , he thought as he glared up from his half devoured plate down the length of the Slytherin table. _And I shall see that their world burn._

* * *

A/N:Surprise! Three hours ealy! Its because I have somewhere I got to be today, and since I know ahead of time I'm able to update accordingly.

The biggest thing I wanted to work on in this fic was the difference between a Slytherin way of thinking and a Gryffindor way of thinking. Though I love Harry and his block headed Gryffindor ways, I always thought his troubles would be far lessened if he paused to think about the problem like a Slytherin would. He would not have succeeded in most of his endeavours had it not been for his wonderful even-headed friend Hermione, who, without her friend's predisposition to action, could not have done as well alone either. Perhaps there is a reason that the greatest wizard in the Harry Potter Universe is Albus Dumbledore, the Gryffindor with a Slytherin's cunning.

Next Update: Friday 21st April 2017 AEDT.

Chapter 6: The Malign House

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	6. The Malign House

**Chapter 6: The Malign House**

The Seventh floor corridor was mercifully empty. Snape had his misgivings passing so close to the lion's den on the way to this relatively abandoned classroom but thankfully his worries were unfounded.

This was his first class in Alchemy and he was only five minutes early, despite that no other students were milling about the door. The hall stood deserted, almost worryingly so. Snape reasoned to himself that it was a class with a long distance educator, so perhaps the students were already inside.

With a smart rap of his knuckles against the door, Snape let himself in. He knocked not because he expected any answer to invite him in but more for politeness sake.

An empty classroom met his eyes and with a thrill of worry the would-be-student thought he might have actually arrived at the wrong room. That worry was brief as his eyes fell upon the setup of a large newly shined mirror facing a round rune-inscribed table.

Only one rune-inscribed table.

Snape approached the alchemy desk, staring at it in disbelief. The classroom was set for only one student. Dumbledore had authorised Alchemy to be taught, on short notice, for the benefit of only one student? The Board of Governors were going to have a lark.

With a scowl and a grumble about irresponsible management of school resources, Snape seated himself. Immediately he recognised that the table was not to be a writing desk. It was round and completely covered from edge to edge in etched inscriptions that dimpled his parchment.

Running his hands along the inscriptions carved along the outer ridge he noted the golden panes set along the edge. He tapped his wand on the material casting spell of analysis. Ninety percent gold, nine percent copper, one percent other strengthening elements.

With a sharp intake of breath he took a step back, this lesson was already shaping up to be more extravagant than everything he's ever owned.

Dragging a desk and chair over next to the alchemy table, Snape sat in front of the mirror and scowled heavily into it. He ordinarily looked dreadful but somehow the slight lack of sleep had rendered his deepest eyes into dark hollow pits. Coupled with his stringy hair and thin stretched features he looked like an eyeless skull with a comical nose. This is why he hated mirrors.

Concentrating on anything else other than his reflection, he set out his quill and parchment neatly. Carefully he pulled out a textbook on the Basic Principles of Alchemy and sat it in front of him, opened to the chapter he had marked with a scrap of parchment. He borrowed the tome out of the restricted section with Dumbledore's written blessing and had not set it down since. The hours were precious when he studied on borrowed time.

He had read through the first three chapters during the free periods leading up to class, but due to the nature of the beast he found himself slogging through it slowly. The reason of his consternation was the concept of transmutation. A true and permanent transfiguration.

He had been an expert in potioneering and understood antidote crafting like second nature. The principle used for that craft had its roots anchored deeply in the concept of transmutation. That small dip into alchemy had been in regards to adding one key ingredient that unravelled a tangle of poisons. There had been none of these 'Focus Stones' or 'Memory Imprint' nonsense that this book threw about. It was as if there was expected alchemical knowledge for even those who ventured into the introductory chapter of a book entitled 'Basic Principles of Alchemy.'

"Studying hard already I see." A deep voice with a hint of a French accent jolted him out of his ministrations.

Snape tried his best not to scowl when he lifted his eyes to the mirror but he wasn't succeeding. It was simply his default reaction to facing towards a reflective surface.

An old wizard sat before him in what looked like a lounge chair. He was garbed in several layers of robes of an elaborate cut. Runes inscribed down the seams of his sleeves not unlike that of the alchemy table. His beard and hair still held wisps of auburn in its silver mane and his face was lined but not to the point of devolving into a mass of wrinkles. By all regards he appeared to be a man on the declining years of middle-aged, but his eyes told a different story. A light amber brown that seemed almost honey golden, his eyes shone from his aged face both youthful and ancient, and somehow timeless.

"Student. What is your name?" The old alchemist prompted in a deep but quiet voice.

"Severus Snape." Snape answered. A student in true to the new concept of alchemy.

A gentle smile graced the alchemist's features. "A pleasure to meet you Mr Snape. My name is Nicolas Flamel."

Snape started. "The inventor of the Philosopher's Stone?!" He hadn't meant to put so much surprise into his exclamation. He was certain Dumbledore was going to solicit the services of a well-established name in the field but to nominate the champion of the craft?

And for just one student?

Flamel's golden eyes twinkled. "Alas, so many achievements in the field and yet my earliest creation remains my call to fame." To refer to the key to immortality as merely an 'earliest creation'… "So is that the reason why you chose to pursue this craft? The Philosopher's Stone?" The twinkle in Flamel's eye disappeared.

Once upon a time Snape might have salivated at the notion of securing the stone for himself. A stone that could guarantee the holder fame, wealth and immortality. A stone that would be his with a simple application of his sharp mind and studious nature. A stone that was withheld to him by the inability to afford an education in the craft.

Snape lowered his eyes. "No."

Those days were behind him. Wealth and fame meant nothing to a man who cared not for his future. Immortality especially, was something he wished for never again.

"I simply want something challenging to learn."

After a moment's silence Flamel smiled and straightened in his seat. "Albus had told me the student I was getting would be an interesting one. Too brilliant a mind for the classes he was taking, potential wasted on the mundane, he said." He leaned forward onto his elbows, clasping his hands together and resting his chin upon them. "Well then what is your ability in Transfigurations?"

Snape could not help the sheepishness. "Not… the best." His practical knowledge was well practiced, but his theory was rusty beyond measure. He had given his Transfiguration textbook a quick glance through since his awakening but never focused on any details in depth. "I don't satisfy the O requirement in OWLS."

With a patient smile, Flamel shook his head. "I have no notion what that means young student. I was educated at Beauxbatons more than a few centuries ago. I don't believe we operated on the same scoring charts."

"It means I'm under qualified for Alchemy through my Transfigurations." Snape confessed, galled by the need to voice his deficiency so clearly.

Not off put by this admission, Flamel continued. "Well then. What about your Potioneering?"

Snape couldn't help the slight smugness in his voice. "More than adequate."

"Quick then. Golpalott's Third Law?"

"The antidote to a blended poisons is to add one key ingredient that transforms the concoction near-alchemically into a substance that counteracts the poison." Snape recounted from his years of delivering that very lesson. "Sum of the parts is greater than the whole."

"Spagyric theories?"

"Plant alchemy. The first theory was posed by Chinese alchemists in the second century that all medicine was three parts poison and one part cure. This formed the idea of hidden properties within ingredients and became the building blocks for Golpalott's Third Law. The second-"

"I'm convinced of your potioneering knowledge." Flamel conceded with a nod. "But if I were to ask you about the Limitations of Transfiguration?"

That was simple first year theory. It hadn't left him yet. "There are five principle exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. The first is that food cannot be conjured. The second governs the impossibility of the transmutation of true life-"

Flamel interrupted. "What about in terms of potion craft?"

"Then you want Gamp's third exception which is a transfigured element cannot take the place of the element of which it is mimicking. This is why you cannot transfigure potions ingredients. It is also why bread cannot be transfigured from a stone-"

"Ronin's Laws of Microtransfiguration?"

Snape could not help but feel abashed. "Nothing."

With a stroke of his beard Flamel appeared thoughtful. "Well we have identified which direction we should take upon your education in this field. I will, however, advise you to revise your Transfigurations. A grasp on those theories is a must for any alchemist."

Snape lowered his eyes. "I understand." He muttered.

"One last question, Mr Snape. Do you believe it possible to overcome these limitations?"

The answer would be no, but somehow Snape did not believe that's the answer Flamel was looking for. "Not with Transfiguration." Was his carefully constructed answer. "Nor Potioneering."

A smile touched the old wizard's lips. "Indeed Mr Snape, and that is what alchemy is about. Overcoming the limitations of Transfiguration and Potioneering through a combination of their parts. In essence the same principles that Golpalott had once stated. The sum of the parts are greater than the whole."

Snape frowned. "So are you telling me that it's possible to create bread from a stone?"

A wry smile touched upon Flamel's ancient but youthful face. "I find it curious you ask about something so small, when there is before you proof that greater miracles are possible."

* * *

With the summer heat quickly fading away along with the season itself, Lily was desperately chasing the last wisp of the sunshine. Despite her imminent and crushing workload, she could not will herself away from the temptation of an afternoon by the lake, her favourite location on school grounds. With winter marching ever closer, warm sunny afternoons by the lake would soon become only a daydream under blankets by the fire.

Marlene had conceded to be her company for the afternoon. The tall Gryffindor Chaser lay sprawled out on the hill rolling down towards the lake's edge, golden hair spilling loose about the grass. An active girl with a wild tom-boyish beauty about her, Marlene was not one for feminine graces.

Lily sat closer to the water's edge, she had planned on dipping her toes in but a sudden chill in the wind had changed her plans. Now she was content to simply watch the glisten of the lake as the dry winds trailed coolness pleasantly across her skin.

Beside her, under the weight of a textbook and three scrolls of writing sat her third roommate Pandora McGonagall, niece of their stern Transfigurations professor. Last names were honestly where much of where their similarities ended. Where Professor McGonagall was methodical and no-nonsense, Pandora was airy and abstract. The trait the two McGonagalls did share was their apparent insatiable pursuit of knowledge, and a tendency to bring homework wherever they went.

"…With Ronin's Second Law of Microtransfiguration clearly states the molecular properties of the transfigured matter will always remain untransformed from the original. So no matter how lifelike a mouse transfigured from a goblet might be it will still be an inanimate object, just animated."

Lily rubbed her temples as Pandora scrutinised her scrolls, each containing a draft of her essay. She decided the best use of a sunny day by the lake was to conduct an in-depth discussion on homework already completed. " _ **Please.**_ I've just finished writing that paper. Can we just leave that in the past?"

The young McGonagall fixed her large green eyes on Lily, a shade closer to aqua than Lily's bright green. "But that essay is due tomorrow. It's hardly in the past."

"Oh crap!" Marlene scrambled upwards. "It's due tomorrow?!"

Lily groaned, "Marlene…" as her friend leapt to her feet, panic in her eyes.

"Pandy. Babe. Please. You gotta help me!" She grasped for one of Pandora's drafts.

Lily knew the studious girl wouldn't refuse. "Umm sure. Take this one." Pandora handed over the scroll she had curled in her lap. Unlike her elder counterpart, the young McGonagall did not have an aversion to homework sharing, the thought of which would no doubt curls her aunt's toes. "Didn't have enough on the Paradigm of Molak's Simulated Motion Postulates in relation to Gamp's Laws of Elemental Transfiguration. However it does have a good part on Elpat's Laws on Restrictive Similarities-"

"Sounds awesome! You're a peach!" The hopeless student exclaimed happily, clasping onto her scroll like a lifeline.

Lily hated to burst her bubble but- "You know Professor McGonagall isn't going to believe one whit that you wrote that." Marlene's face fell so quickly it was a wonder how her jaw didn't get whiplash.

"Aunt Minnie does tend to notice these things." Pandora agreed.

"Why not rewrite using the draft points instead?" Lily suggested sensibly.

Marlene groaned. "But… the effort…" Honestly a lazier Gryffindor there has never been. Well no that was an exaggeration. There was still Potter, and Black, and the Prewett Twins, insofar everyone on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. A worryingly common theme.

"I know you're planning on playing Quidditch after graduating, but don't you think you should perhaps have a passable academic record? You know. Just in case?"

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Yeesh Lily. What are you my mum?"

"Actually I think she sounds more like Aunt Minnie than Mrs McKinnon." Pandora observed. She was right, Marlene's mother was far more likely to conspire with her daughter to find a Chizpurfle to pin the eating of homework on. Lily had met the McKinnons last summer when Lily was invited over to the McKinnon household and a more similar mother-daughter combo there had never been.

Lily had been in a bad ways emotionally during that time, she lacked a best friend right when she needed one most, what with her mother's sudden passing. It was a tense few days with her father, especially when Petunia returned from London to attend the funeral. So when Marlene extended that invitation Lily leapt for a chance a visit to the magical world again, to escape from the spat-filled sobriety of her mourning muggle household. As for the vacant position of best friend, well Marlene slipped into that role seamlessly.

"C'mon Lil's. How much do you love me?" Her new best friend begged, holding out the scroll she scored off Pandora.

Lily rolled her eyes. A lot but- "Not that much."

"But you're so much smarter than me! I'll never get it done in time!" Even with Pandora's expertly crafted draft, the hapless girl would struggle to complete her scribe. It wasn't that Marlene was stupid, Lily knew she had a brilliant problem-solving mind, especially when faced with Quidditch tactics. She honestly was just easily distracted, and for a lack of a better word, just plain lazy.

"Okay okay. How 'bout this. _**You**_ help me write up my essay. And _**I**_ will stay back and help you finish up your Care of Magical Creatures practical load next time Lupin can't be arsed turning up."

"You already do that though." Lily mumbled. Marlene had indeed stayed back with her class-partner and fellow roommate Susan O'Doyle the day before to help Lily finish composting her non-magical Mooncalf dung. "And Lupin gets sick. He can't help it." Care of Magical Creatures is one of the only times the Marauders got separated. This was mostly because on day one Lily had bullied Lupin into partnering with her. Her best friend at the time had refused to take this class and Marlene had agreed to partner with Susan before Lily had even submitted her class attendance form. Poor little Peter had to make do with Maxly, a Ravenclaw boy who honestly had just as little affinity for that subject as Lily had. Needless to say, neither he nor Peter were going on to NEWTs.

"Okay fine." Lily conceded with an air of exasperation. Marlene was always there to help her after all but Lily couldn't help but feel homework was a whole other kettle of fish. "I'll write it up for you but this is the last time. Honestly Marlene you've got to take your work seriously now. We're in sixth year, and Pandora and I won't always have the time to pull you out of the fire."

"Thank you so much, Lily. Love you!" Evidently the only part Marlene heard was the first part.

Lily silently hoped her best friend will get her act together. Prefect duties on top of preexisting workloads was already beginning to crush the usually quite competent girl, she didn't need more work on top of her pile. Why did she have to pick a best friend that added to her pressure? Why can't Marlene be more studious and self-reliant? Why couldn't she be more like-?

No. Lily shook her head. Marlene did not stand to be improved by being more like him. Nobody was improved by being more like him…

That stupid, angry, easily brainwashed idiot…

"I mean it Marlene. This is the last time." Lily told her sternly with a sigh, made more irritable by the unkind comparison of her best friend with that of a friend who is no more. "I already have Flitwick breathing down my neck and piling me with extra work. I honestly don't think I can keep yours on top of it."

Marlene looked appropriately abashed. "I'm sorry. Last time I promise." Then frowned. "Why's Flitwick got you down? Thought he liked you? All the teachers like you."

"He's being extra strict on me." Lily muttered. "Told me I won't pass if I can't cast a spell wandlessly and wordlessly by the end of the year."

"What, but that's crazy talk!" Marlene exclaimed. "Most people can't even cast wordlessly, let alone wandlessly!"

"But Lily can do both." Pandora supplied helpfully.

"Just not together." Lily conceded. Casting just came naturally to her, it felt odd to watch how others struggled.

"And that's not enough?" Marlene looked aghast. "Honestly I never took Flitwick for such a hard-arse."

Lily nodded. "Dorcas thinks that it's how he shows favouritism. By pushing hard."

"I'm glad he didn't think much of me then." Marlene grumbled.

"What is the issue you're not overcoming in wandless, wordless casting then?" As usual Pandora cuts straight to the technical aspect of the situation, flying completely over any human ones.

Lily picked up a round pebble and laid it on her palm. She waved her right hand over it and muttered "Wingardium Leviosa. _"_ It floated easily from her palm and hovered gently. She snatched it and passed her hand over the stone again, this time focusing on forcing the magic through wordlessly. She could feel her magic escaping her grasp and knew she had failed before she had even finished her hand pass. The stone sat still upon her palm, mocking her.

"Casting wandlessly is like trying to juggle. You have to control many elements of a spell at once without the use of a focus." She produced her wand, then with a flick that stone immediately lifted from her palm without a second's hesitation. "Wordless casting is like trying to put more force into an action done more easily another way. Like pushing a tome across the table with your tongue." She caught the stone once again, rolling it around between her fingers. "So doing both at once is trying to force a spell forward while controlling its many flailing elements… kind of like…." She struggled for an example to describe it with.

"Trying to pour jelly through a sieve while convincing it to retain its shape." Pandora supplied helpfully.

"Exactly." Lily nodded as she floated the stone off her palm with her wand, hoping to direct it home into the lake.

"Accio." Pandora commanded, empty hand extended. Lily felt the slight tug of power meeting her own and dropped the stone in surprise. The little pebble clattered across the stony bank and rolled into the water with a plonk.

Lily rounded on the young McGonagall with eyes wide. "I didn't know you could wandless cast too!"

"I've been practicing." Pandora conceded.

"I felt it." Lily confirmed.

"But it needs to be more." Her disappointment was palpable. "It's a necessary skill for any enchanter."

"Why d'you need to know that?" Marlene asked with a shrug.

Pandora huffed a half-hearted sigh. "Because learning to cast permanent enchantments is part of the wand making process."

When everyone picked their career paths, Pandora had chosen wand maker. Needless to say her aunt wound up with a frazzled look in her eye in the weeks following. To Lily, wand makers were a mysterious and intriguing lot and simply left it at that, she had never bothered to find out what it took to become one. Evidently wandless casting was one of them, and suddenly the elder McGonagall's consternation became far more understandable.

"I'll help you practice wandless casting." Lily offered, though she didn't know the first thing about how to advise someone on a craft that came naturally to her.

"Would you?" Pandora brightened. "That would be wonderful. In return I can share what I have on the topic of enchantments."

"Umm. Sure. Thanks." Though the craft seemed intriguing, Lily could not imagine dedicating any time to it through her workload. In fact she could not imagine what she was doing still sitting by the lake after she added an additional piece of homework to her heaving pile.

"Well that's enough of that." Lily almost sighed as she pulled herself upright and dusted the grass off her robe-skirt. "Work to do, day light's burning."

Marlene leapt up and fell into step. "Thank you Lily! Last time I promise! In fact I'll get started on my Defence essay now." Not that she'll actually finish it before the last day.

Pandora sprung to her feet. "And I'll get you my 'Beginner's Guide to Positive Enchantments and Their Associated Cores' for you to borrow."

"Sure. That'd be nice." Lily wasn't eager to make time to learn the craft but she was always eager to read. She tries to dedicate at least an hour every evening to reading something.

The three friends made their way up the hill and followed the footpath that wound its way around the lake, heading towards the castle. As they drew closer they could see a disturbance playing out just outside the courtyard. Lily quickened her steps, she felt the weight of her prefect badge as she hurried to the small throng of students. Her heart dropped as she spotted the flash of green of the Slytherin crest.

"-And you actually thought to cut across my path you filthy mudblood?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to. I didn't see you there." A little Hufflepuff who couldn't be older than third year, was cowering before a looming giant of a Slytherin boy. Even from afar Lily recognised the hulking boy. The Hufflepuff's friends stood by the shaking muggle-born, but far enough away to be out of arms reach. Hufflepuffs looked out for one another but they weren't Gryffindors about it.

Lily stopped just short of the cluster and took a deep breath. She always hated these types of confrontations. "Excuse me. Prefect here." She tried her best not to let the nervousness into her voice. "I would like everyone to calm down and take a step back." Marlene stepped up in line with her, knuckles cracking. A little back-up never goes amiss.

The large Slytherin boy turned to her, threat radiating from his frame. Mulciber stood a good head and a half above Lily in height, and at least twice that in width. _One of Snape's awful friends_. She thought glumly to herself. The look of disgust that shrivelled his features when he laid eyes upon her made Lily's stomach clench with righteous anger.

 _It was this awful mindset that destroyed everything…_

"Another mudblood decides to crawl underfoot." He sneered down at the much smaller girl. "And if it isn't Snape's mudblood at that. Perhaps this is my lucky day."

Lily felt Marlene bristle at her shoulder, wand immediately grasped combatively. Lily's hand floated down to her side, hovering over the pocket where her wand was stowed. "Back off Mulciber." Lily commanded warningly. With her other hand she gestured subtly to the little Hufflepuff boy but the poor thing was stricken in his spot.

Within the Slytherin crowd she spotted Regulus Black, a recently promoted fifth year prefect. He appeared bored but still standing among the crowd, neither participating nor assisting Lily with its dissipation. "Black!" Lily called out, grasping at straws on how to deescalate this situation. "As a prefect you are obligated to act against bullies within your own House!"

Irritatingly the Slytherin prefect simply shrugged. "Didn't see any bullying going on. Not my problem." No smarmy smile, no sign of obvious dissent. Just the flippant response of some bored spoilt prat.

"In fact I don't think he's going to see much of anything little miss Gryffindor." Mulciber drew his wand and took a step forward threateningly. Marlene raised her own, ready to retaliate, but Lily threw out a hand to stop her. This didn't have to get ugly.

"I'm warning you Mulciber. And all of you." She directed her glare to every Slytherin present. "Disperse now or you will all get detention." That got a few scowls from the bunch, but Mulciber did not appear to get the message.

"Get her Mulciber!" A voice called from the crowd. "Send a message to that upstart Snape."

A shiver traced down her spine. Lily's eyes widened as she realised the large boy that Snape was reported to have had an altercation with was a reasonable description for Mulciber. Was Snape fighting with his Slytherin friends? Lily internally shook herself. This wasn't her problem, especially not at this moment.

Lily tensed as the hulking Mulciber smiled grotesquely, towering over the two girls. Marlene did not seem the least bit cowed. If it's just her and Marlene against the entire horde of Slytherins, things would likely get ugly and fast. But Slytherins had a tendency to leave each other to fend for themselves. If it was her and Marlene against just Mulciber then the large boy didn't stand a chance.

"One last warning Mulciber. Back off and disperse your crowd." Lily ordered him in an even tone. The Hufflepuff finally got the message and dashed off, his friends flocking to him the moment he was clear.

"Oh look at you. Little Gryffindor, getting all scared." Mulciber sneered.

"Yeah, we're pissing our pants." Marlene responded sardonically. "Like you musta been when you got your arse kicked yesterday by a boy half your size." Damn she put two and two together as well and without a moment's forethought went straight for the trigger.

"Calvinsto!" Mulciber screamed, swinging his wand to bear against the offending girl. Lily hadn't even had her wand out.

"Protego!" The unarmed girl cried, hand outstretched. A shield blazed to life before her, breaking the path of the hex. With that instant her wandless shield bought her, Lily fumbled her wand out of her pocket.

"Stupefy!" Cried Marlene, immediately on the offensive. Credit to where it's due, Mulciber defended himself with well-timed Protego of his own.

Lily stretched out and grasped Marlene's wand hand, stopping her from attacking any further. Mulciber's eyes grew wide with triumph as he brought his wand down with a great roar of "Calvinsto!"

Except his target wasn't either of the Gryffindor girls before him.

Regulus Black went down with a squawk and sudden burst of hair. Mulciber had turned on the spot and hit Regulus with an Instant Scalping Hex. Eyes unfocused the large boy frowned at the sudden hiss of outrage that issued from the Slytherin crowd.

Lily grinned, a little too pleased with herself, tucking her wand away with a flourish. "Didn't notice getting Confundused Mulciber?"

A look of horror dawned on the giant boy's dull face before morphing into rage as he rounded back around on the Gryffindor girls.

"That is quite enough!" A sharp stern voice rang over the courtyard. Professor McGonagall marched out from the entranceway quickly followed by her niece. Lily had wondered where Pandora ran off to. "Mr Mulciber. Ten points from Slytherin for your belligerent display, and you can see me for detention on Saturday. And you are coming with me to see Professor Slughorn immediately." She rounded on one of the Slytherins in the shrinking crowd. "Mr Carrow, see to it that Mr Black here gets to the Hospital Wing" The young Slytherin nodded without meeting her eyes and accompanied the scowling half plucked Black through the courtyard door, his long hair now sporting a bald strip straight down the middle.

Lily stepped back with Marlene, both girls were wise enough to know not to catch the Professor's attention when her ire flared. It did her no good.

"Ms Evans." McGonagall's commanding tone prompted the prefect to jump immediately to attention. "I am shocked to see you of all people scuffling like some common ruffian."

"I did all I could to diffuse the situation, ma'am." Lily offered, a little abashed to be scolded.

"Yeah they were abusing some poor Hufflepuffs." Marlene butted in, a little too aggressively. "We couldn't do nothing."

"And had you not acted did you really think the situation would have devolved into hospitalisation?"

"No…" Lily answered, turning a tinge of red.

"Well then, I think the correct course of action should have been obvious." McGonagall continued. "Find a figure of authority that could appropriately handle the situation so that all would emerge unharmed. I appreciate the sense of justice you girls displayed but often not acting upon judicious instinct is for the greater good." With a curt nod to Pandora, who looked all too pleased with herself for being the only person to have done exactly as her aunt had endorsed, McGonagall turned and marched off with a glum Mulciber in tow.

With a scowl Marlene shook her head, any appearance of chastisement discarded. "I don't care what she says. We did the right thing." Lily peeked up at her from her position of humbling. "Someone was getting attacked who didn't deserve it. We acted when they needed help the most and bullocks to any who says otherwise. After all, the only ones who got hurt were some bloody snakes. If anyone deserves a hiding it's them."

* * *

 _Well this is a sudden turn…_

Snape frowned at the Slytherins sitting in his corner at the dinner table. Polite greetings of "Heya Snape" and "Good afternoon" greeted his ears. Carefully he settled into his corner seat of the bench, conveniently left unoccupied for him. Across from him sat Rosier, who smirked as he gave a curt nod. Beside him was Avery, looking withdrawn and sheepish.

Snape frowned and glanced up the table, meeting the eyes and nods of other Slytherins of dark calibre that had migrated to his side of the table. It appeared the cloister of the Death Eater gang had joined him. Even the seventh year Wilkes and Travers sat in his proximity, they didn't meet his eyes or acknowledge him in any way but he knew their proximity meant they accepted his victory over the better connected, pureblood Mulciber.

Speaking of which, Snape's eyes slid to the far end of the table, narrowing at the sight of the lone figure hunched dejectedly over his plate, defeat read over his every feature. The brute of a boy wasn't even devouring his plate with the same gusto.

"Alas our dear friend Mulciber had met a troubling humbling at the hands of that mudblood Gryffindor prefect." Rosier sneered as he followed Snape's line of sight.

A chill settled in the pit of Snape's gut. There was little left to the imagination as to who that might have been, and how that scenario might have come about. Suddenly Snape felt a lot less charitable to his defeated opponent.

"How precious. Twice in two days?" He sneered, loud enough for all in proximity to hear clearly. Their unkind sniggers carried all the way to the far side of the table, causing the humbled boy to shrivel further.

Snape laughed along with them, with the haughty Rosier and the nervous Avery, with the low chuckle of Wilkes and the nasty guffaw of Travers. He laughed along with all the snakes, who would sooner stab him than help him should he stumble. All the while he seethed with a silent insidious rage. That any of them should presume to attack her, his Lily, and believe that she would deserve it simply because she was born of muggle blood.

It was with that rage Snape stormed into Dumbledore's office, ready to demand the expulsion of every Death Eater-to-be in the noble house of Slytherin. He tore the door open, sending the heavy oak door slamming against the cushioning enchantment cast upon the receiving wall.

"Albus!" He shouted into the circular office, his breath heaving from his wild rage and poorly stamina. His commitment to the use of formal pronouns with this less familiar Dumbledore lay forgotten under his torrent of outrage. No voice of surprise, concern or chastisement replied. Only silence.

The office stood empty of both headmaster and bird, and Snape's haze of rage ebbed briefly before flaring again. Outrage compounded upon outrage. He stalked into the office, destructive urge spiking as his fury urged him to let loose upon the headmaster's ridiculous plinking curious, warring with his sensibilities that cautioned with a reminder that he could ill afford to replace any of them.

He set to pacing back and forth before the great claw-footed desk, working out his temper with that familiar agitated motion. "Arranged for a bloody meeting every Thursday night and doesn't even bother to show up for it." He muttered to no one in particular.

Stopping suddenly mid step, Snape's eyes set upon a frayed hat, propped upon a shelf behind that great desk. The hat that sorted him into this pit of deceit and evil, that had told him his ambition ruled him, that his cunning defined him, that there was no doubt he was a Slytherin.

The hat that parted him from his one guiding light.

He ripped the hat from its perch and slammed it down upon his head, its rim no longer finding his ears and nose but fit snugly upon his crown.

A quiet voice spoke into Snape's ears. _"_ Hmm. A bit of time has passed since we last met hasn't it? How odd. I did not feel this time the same way. It almost feels like two lifetimes since we've met."

Snape gritted his teeth, calming his rattled heart and unsettled mind, composing into coherence the question he wished to ask.

"I already know your question, Severus Snape. You ask if I chose correctly, placing you in Slytherin. My answer remains the same."

"How?!" He rasped, suddenly too exhausted to take on a belligerent tone. "My ambitions are dust."

"Your ambition is no longer so insidious, that part is true. But you are still shrewd. You are still cunning. You are still resourceful. Traits Salazar himself would have anointed."

"Am I not brave?" Snape bellowed, unable to tamper his emotions. "Am I not clever? Am I not _ **loyal**_? Why am I still Slytherin?"

Silence met his ears for the longest time, until finally that small voice returned. "Why is it, Severus Snape, that you think a Slytherin cannot be all of those?" After all his indignation he could not answer the hat. "Is it perhaps because of another thought that had wormed its way into your mind? But Severus Snape, you of all people should know this answer. Slytherin does not mean evil."

Snape tore the hat from his head, heart pounding in his ears. All of his earlier directionless rage dispersed into the wind. Anger often renders his judgement ill, something he's learned in his tedious and fruitless life. What the hat told him was something he had known, something he should not have needed reminding.

Slytherins are not evil.

That had been his mantra when he took over the reins as Head of Slytherin House, the House that did nothing to shelter him from the abuses of the world. A House that left him isolated and vulnerable for the darkness of the world. A House that's comprised of children, many of whom that were equally vulnerable, whose paths were made dark by their inability to find a way to protect themselves by any other means.

That had been why he forced the change in the Slytherin psyche when he took over. The unwritten rules became; no Slytherin will attack another of their house, not verbally, not physically, not emotionally. When one Slytherin was victimised by other members of the school, the House must pull together to protect and support that member, no matter what sparked such a situation. His actions had him accused of favouritism, but it was what the House needed above all else. An adult who would look out for them regardless of the situation, even to the detriment of others.

No Slytherin should be left isolated and vulnerable. That was why the House of the Snake became a house that looked out for its own.

A House that should have been there for Snape when he needed it the most.

His hands had balled into fists, the frayed fabric of the hat twisting under the force of his grip. Taking mercy upon the magical apparel Snape released it, returning it to its position upon the shelf. His anger dissipated, his heart suddenly calm as he looked upon the situation at hand. He was no longer a man of power, just a boy embroiled within the politics of snakes. Yet, with his experience, his lifetime's worth of wiles, he was able to claw himself into a better position than he ever held as a student of this House.

Perhaps…

"Ah Severus, so good of you to show. Apologies for my tardiness."

Snape drew away from the hat and turned to greet Dumbledore who stepped from the stairwell that stretched upwards to the headmaster's workroom and quarters. Upon the headmaster's arm perched Fawkes, intelligent eyes fixed upon the student who dawdled too close to his perch.

With his temper shed and equilibrium restored Snape felt somewhat abashed for his momentary loss of control. He stepped back from the headmaster's desk and allowed Dumbledore to reoccupy his place within the office.

"Dumbledore." He politely greeted with a nod as the headmaster settled at his desk. Fawkes balanced upon his perch, glaring at the younger man almost waspishly. Snape politely averted his gaze. "I have not been waiting long."

Dumbledore smiled with a twinkle in his eye. "Glad to see you had found something to preoccupy yourself in the meantime. Saying hello to an old friend I see."

Snape scowled, unable to keep his face from colouring in response. The headmaster reached over almost absentmindedly to straighten the Sorting Hat upon the shelf. If Dumbledore had heard his frustrated outburst then he mercifully gave no indication.

"Well if there is nothing more pressing to discuss I would like to get started." Dumbledore's blue eyes fixed upon the younger Slytherin who averted his own as he sat himself down opposite. Snape's pressing matter no longer seemed so pressing on this side of his temper.

With a deep breath, Snape readied himself to once more delve into his sordid past, but Dumbledore made no move to summon his Pensieve. Instead he reached into one of the many pockets on his silver trimmed lime green robes and produced a small pouch.

Curious Snape leant in, frowning as Dumbledore pulled open the knot and unthreaded the opening. Then with an almost casual motion he tipped the pouch over and allowed its content to spill upon the desk.

With a light plink a gold ring clattered across the heavy oaken desk, black stone set within its centre, glinting orange in the lamplight.

* * *

A/N: Lily can take care of herself. Gryffindor got no space for damsels in distress.

Next Update: Friday 5th May 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 7: Misguided Antipathy**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	7. Misguided Antipathy

**Chapter 7: Misguided Antipathy**

A chair clattered across the office as Snape got suddenly to his feet.

"Don't you dare put that on!" He hissed, eyes glued to that deceptively insidious trinket. The dark stone with its inscribed triangular eye-like symbol, sat snugly within its gold setting. A piece that leapt warningly from his memory from the shrivelled blackened hand of another Albus Dumbledore.

"Of course Severus." Dumbledore replied calmly as if the young man before him had not jumped like Salazar Slytherin himself had materialised. "I am perfectly aware of what that ring will do to me and I have no death wish." He picked up the ring delicately, placing it into a conjured glass box and enclosed it within with powerful wards. "Do you remember our discussion yesterday on Horcruxes?"

Snape scowled. "Of course. It takes more than a day for me to forget. That is the ring Horcrux then is it? I understand why it was in your possession but goes no way to explaining what possessed you to put the blasted thing on."

"Alas I cannot speak for my counterpart. But I can assure you I have no intention of repeating his actions." Dumbledore said lightly as he set the glass cube gently onto the desk. "For now our focus is finding a way to destroy the ones we gather."

"The sword of Gryffindor" Snape growled, unable to take his eyes away from the dark stone.

"That was what I used to destroy it in your time." Dumbledore agreed with a nod.

Snape delved into his archival memory. "The artefact was located in the Chamber of Secrets. A room that is no doubt still just part of school mythos but I can assure you that it is real."

Dumbledore smiled. "Oh I know the Chamber is real, and also where the entrance is. The girls' bathroom on the first floor."

"What?" Snape felt like he was headed for an aneurysm. "We spent a damnable year searching for that bloody chamber and you knew where it was all along?"

"The knowledge does me no good." Dumbledore answered lightly. "I can speak no Parseltongue, and unless I've read the Prince line incorrectly you cannot speak it either." Snape did not answer, he was speechless with rage, unable to fathom how the thought process went within that brilliant but daft mind of Albus Dumbledore.

"However it does bring one niggling thought to mind." Dumbledore continued as if he did not notice the openly murderous expression upon his young companion. "You mentioned the sword was found within the Chamber of Secrets. Was that Sword used to slay the beast that resides within?"

Finding his voice again Snape answered. "It was." He could make even two words bristle with vehemence.

With a tired smile Dumbledore shook his head. "Then I do not believe the Sword can help us here. That sword is goblin make and is enchanted to take within itself only what makes it stronger. It is not the sword we seek but the venom imbued within the blade."

With a wave of his hand, the Pensieve cabinet blew open and the shallow metal pan floated out of its holder. Removing the glass cube Dumbledore allowed the metal dish to take its place. Dumbledore uncorked a crystal vial he fished from his drawer and with his wand coaxed out one specific thread of memory, casting it into the shallow bowl. Immediately the surface rippled with the image of the Horcrux diary, scarred with a terrible gaping wound in its centre. "The diary had been destroyed by a Basilisk fang so I am at least certain Basilisk venom is a key substance. The Sword of Gryffindor was likely imbued with venom during the course of its adventures and is unlikely come to us so conveniently prepared."

Snape frowned. "But if it is down in the chamber-"

"It is not." Dumbledore shook his head. "I have no doubt in your time it had been used to slay a Basilisk but I can assure you the Sword of Godric Gryffindor did not reside in the chamber before that time. That sword appears to any of Godric's chosen in their time of greatest need and can only be taken through actions of valour. Though having the sword imbued once more would be an added convenience I do not relish the thought of facing a Basilisk for the expressed purpose of making it dribble on a sword."

Snape glared silently into the Pensieve, watching the venom-damaged diary move across its rippling surface, turning over in his mind alternatives to their predicament. "There are other methods. I recall Fiendfyre to be one such." He lifted his eyes from the memory on display and met Dumbledore's. "I believe that spell is well within your capacity to cast."

"Yes. Fiendfyre…" Dumbledore glanced away. "I fear that method may be too crude."

Snape scowled. "There is no such thing as _too crude_ a destructive method."

"Perhaps. If it comes down to it. But for now, so long as this is not the last element to our quest then I shall wait." With a flick of his wand the cube floated across the room and pressed against the curved wall. It passed through the seemingly solid mass, leaving seamless stonework that spoke nothing of its secrets. The portrait of Armando Dippet flipped back down with a ruffled squawk, hiding the occupied space behind it.

Dumbledore turned back to the younger man who watched him with a muted confusion. Snape could not fathom why the headmaster would take the risk of waiting. "I ask that you trust me." Was all the assurance Dumbledore was willing to give.

Without a word Snape gave a stiff nod. He will not contend Dumbledore on matters that did not involve Lily. She was his only concern, and his methods be damned if the old man could bring about the war's end sooner.

"And with that I believe we should return to formal matters at hand." Dumbledore drew the string of memory out of the Pensieve and restored it to its bottle. "If you would Severus. I believe we were at the events proceeding my tumble from the astronomy tower."

Suppressing a sigh Snape relaxed into the chair and opened his mind once more to the headmaster's probing eyes.

* * *

It was an exciting few days for the House of Gryffindor. Again the common room was abuzz with chatter when Lily stepped through the portrait hole. Apparently the news travelled fast. The dinner table chatter had been of the mundane variety, yet within the space of the journey from the Hall to the Tower the news of Lily's fight infected all sources of gossip.

Well that wasn't entirely as short a span of time as that seemed, Lily had to make a detour to McGonagall's office to hand in a formal prefectorial report on the incident she was involved in. In the calm of that ordered office, the professor seemed far more forgiving of Lily's transgressions, even going so far as to commend her sense of civic duty. As mixed messages from adults went McGonagall's was the easiest to decipher. Any Gryffindor understood valour, even if it went against overall productiveness.

Never the less, it had only been half an hour between the dinner table and the tower, and within that span of time news had travelled to every Gryffindor ear.

It was of no surprise then that the first person that greeted her in the common room crowd was James Potter, brows creased with concern. "Are you okay?" He asked, his energy reminiscent of an anxious puppy. "Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine." Lily insisted, hands held up in a warding gesture. James tended to be handsy when he got worried or emotional.

"Leave her alone James. 'Course she's alright." Marlene bellowed from the other end of the room. As a fellow chaser on the Quidditch team, Marlene and James were on first name basis. Lily often wondered why James didn't simply redirect his flirtatious energy to his fellow team member, they were already quite friendly.

Not that it wasn't flattering.

James was handsome, funny and from a well-established family. Lily could see herself falling for him if it weren't for his mean streak. His actions, likely childish in nature, but often malicious in result, it was something she could not overlook. In recent days however he was cleaning up his act, his recent pranks appeared scaled down and less destructive in nature. His recent efforts bespoke a new interest in establishing himself as a noble defender of Gryffindor. A vocation that was not dissimilar to what Lily had done today.

 _Perhaps…_

"You really are something you know Evans." James went on with a cool smile on his face, ruffling his hair with a seemingly casual but obviously deliberate motion. "Taking on a horde of snakes all by yourself-"

"I was there you know!" Marlene's voice rang out from the throng once more.

"Right." James nodded with an awkward smile, his rhythm obviously thrown off. "I mean, I expect it from Marlene. But it was real brave of you Evans."

Lily's eyes narrowed. "What is that meant to mean?"

A look of horror crossed his face. "I didn't mean to say you're not brave. Heck you're in Gryffindor, of course you'd be brave. I just mean that…" He trailed off, seemingly struggling with words and the expressing of.

Sirius suddenly slid into sight and attached straight to James' side. "What Prongs here is trying to say is. Good job showing those snakes their place."

"Right." James nodded, bolstered by his best friend's support. "Not many could find it in themselves to confront a throng of Slytherins alone-"

"Hey!" Marlene exclaimed again.

"-And fewer still could wreck them as expertly as you did."

A little flattered Lily suppressed a smile and replied coolly. "Only one of them wanted to fight. It wasn't like I was taking on all six of them."

"Yet you somehow manage to humble two at once." Sirius snorted. "My idiot brother's never going to live down his new haircut."

Mary materialised from the crowded room holding Lily's patrol sash, Lily had asked her to fetch it for her when she headed up to see McGonagall.

All prefects had to wear a luminescent sash of their House Colours when they were out on patrol so they wouldn't be accidentally misidentified by patrolling teachers, or ghosts, or Filch the caretaker. It also made it too easy for marauding students to spot and take avoidance measures.

"Are you going to be alright out there tonight?" The brunette asked with a worried frown.

"I'll be fine. Thanks Mary." Lily reached for the sash.

Mary jerked back, holding the sash just out of her reach. "I'm serious Lily. Have you actually thought about your safety? Lupin said you're scheduled to patrol with a Slytherin tonight."

That had been a niggling worry at the back of Lily's mind all afternoon, but for the sake of not encouraging the Marauders to break curfew and dog her down the halls she had to fake flippancy. "It's just Rosier. I've patrolled with him before. Honestly, I'll be fine." The truth was, Rosier is Snape's friend and from a family that was known to be a blood purity supporter. Though he was ever so polite and soft spoken, nobody was fooled. He was as much a Death Eater as the hulking vile Mulciber.

"Want me to tail you, just in case?" James offered, which was the exact thing Lily had hoped to avoid.

"Absolutely not. Thank you Potter, but it isn't necessary."

"I have a suggestion Lily." Remus entered the discussion in an even reasonable tone. "How about I switch patrol shifts with you? I have Sunday evening with Amelia Bones, a fifth year Hufflepuff."

That would have been a wonderful solution had it not been literally the day after Remus' transformation. The boy was white as a sheet and he could barely stand as he spoke, needing to lean on Peter half way through his sentence to catch his breath.

"No Remus, you've just been ill. You need to rest." Lily sighed, snatching the sash from Mary's fingers. "I'll be fine honestly. Slytherins might be nasty but they're not dumb. At least not Rosier. He'll not risk trying anything when he'll definitely get caught."

James opened his mouth as if to argue further but Lily rounded on him before he could get the first word out of his mouth. "And if I find you breaking curfew that will be twenty points from Gryffindor and a weeks' worth of detention. I'm sorry Potter, your concern is sweet and all but I will not tolerate rule breaking on my watch."

James flushed and closed his mouth. "Why do you like her again?" Sirius muttered from his shoulder loud enough for Lily to hear.

With her sash fastened Lily rushed out of the common room before anyone noticed her reddening colour. Potter's interest in her was the worst kept secret in all of Gryffindor, and it was becoming harder to hide her growing interest in him. With some luck everyone would interpret her haste to leave as eagerness to escape the coddling of peers.

With a sigh Lily committed to her long walk down the darkened stairwell, trying her best to suppress that squirm of guilt. She couldn't deny James was physically attractive, and when he wasn't being a complete arse Lily found herself imagining what it would be like to simply give in to his frequent attempts to court her and simply humour him for a date. That train of thought would always be accompanied by a squirm of guilt. A guilt that had no right to foster a place within her. A guilt that she was betraying someone who had betrayed her first.

James had been horrible to Snape, there was no denying it. But Snape had been equally horrible right back. There had been frequent hospitalisations of both parties. Lily could distinctly recall once in third year James had slipped a newt spleen down the back of her once friend's robes in Potion class. Snape's retaliation had been to upend the Gryffindor boy's cauldron, spilling the boiling contents onto him, scalding him so badly he had to spend a day in the hospital wing, all for a simple harmless prank.

No. One act too far, one error too many. He was no longer part of Lily's life. She should not factor him into the decisions she made any longer.

While James' actions had been equally reprehensible in later years, in recent days he appeared to have calmed. Apart from one or two minor spats he did nothing too outrageous, he certainly didn't seem to be hounding Snape any longer. If he was willing to change then who was she to hold his past against him?

 _Perhaps…_

With that thought in mind Lily stepped into the Entrance Hall, almost walking straight into Rosier.

The tall suave Slytherin stood silently by the foot of the Entrance Hall stairs, leaning his slim frame against the railing. His green sash glowed in the darkness, tinting his dark grey eyes a murky lime.

"Hello." Lily offered into the silent hall, catching the reclining boy's attention. "Sorry I'm late. I had a little meeting with McGonagall…" She winced, last thing she needed was to remind the Slytherin of what she had done to his friend earlier today.

To her annoyance and profound relief he didn't even acknowledge that statement, or her in general. He simply stood straight, stretched briefly and proceeded to head towards the side door leading to the ground floor corridor. After a moment's hesitation Lily followed after him.

Their patrol route were a simple round sweep of each floor by following the corridor around the circuit of the castle. When done properly it should take no more than two hours provided patrol was uneventful. Unfortunately in a magical castle uneventful patrols were less the norm. Most patrol nights Lily crawled into bed exhausted and would wake the next morning bleary eyed and grumpy.

Luckily for now, in the initial stages of the patrol, exhaustion had not yet reared its ugly head. It was the looming prospect of two-plus hours of mind-numbing boredom that weighed heavy on her mind. The ground floor went by quickly but as always the first few floors were always the easiest. Time had a tendency to drag the closer to the finish one came.

Lily's footsteps echoed loudly in the hallways of the sleeping castle. A low whistle sounded down the darkened corridor, a symptom of the high winds penetrating the draughty castle. Somewhere behind her a suit of armour turned its head, causing its joints to creak. During her first patrols in fifth year, these random old-castle noises set her nerves a jitter, now her imagination craved the prospect of those noises to be more than just a by-product of aging magical castle. Just for some form of mental stimulation.

She's been on patrols with Rosier before in fifth year. He honestly wasn't as bad as Astra Burke, his female prefect counterpart. Though he also looked at her like she was something he scraped from the bottom of his shoe, he was not outright abusive. When they had to exchange words they had always been cordial, but make small chat with a muggle-born Gryffindor he did not.

This is why when he suddenly spoke Lily almost jumped out of her skin. "So, how are you this evening?" He asked that as they approached the Grand staircase once again, ready to ascend to the second floor. Lily paused at the first step and glanced about her. Somehow it felt more likely that Rosier was speaking to some apparition that materialised from the walls.

"I said, how are you this evening?" Rosier asked again with a little more insistence. He slipped a sideways glance to her, his cold grey eyes appeared dark and bored, and not at all convincing Lily that it wasn't a rhetorical question.

"I'm fine…" The Gryffindor girl answered hesitantly. "How are you?"

For a moment it looked as if he regretted saying anything and would return to his stifling but less baffling silence, however it appeared to be an evening where nothing would go as expected. "Growing bored of indulging pleasantries but thank you for asking."

Lily bit her tongue on a sharp retort. If he didn't want to speak to her then why did he start? As much as it galled her to not rise to his obvious bait she was above bickering over semantics. Arriving on the Second floor flight they turned down the darkened hall of the corridor.

"You still seeing Snape on the sly then?" That question came out of nowhere.

Lily turned her head so quickly it cricked her neck. "No. What?"

Rosier gave a half-bored smirk but his dark grey eyes was fooling nobody. "The two of you made quite the show over your fallout last year. I'm asking if it was just that. All for show?"

"I can assure you I have nothing more to do with him." Lily ground out through gritted teeth.

"Really?" Rosier's eyes lingered on hers once more. "Because not after a day he made his move you humiliated his opponent in front of a crowd of his peers, essentially handing victory to Snape. Now I never took you to be the cunning, patient type but coincidences like that seldom occur."

Lily bristled at the insinuations. "Well I don't know what you're expecting but I can assure you I did not set out to crown Snape when I encountered Mulciber today."

Rosier did not appear convinced but he fell silent regardless, he turned away before Lily had finished her sentence. For an irritated moment Lily thought Rosier had simply decided to drop the conversation midway through but then he suddenly stopped mid step. Lily followed his line of sight and with a thrill of alarm picked out a dark figure striding through the hall ahead of them with steps so light they did not sound even in the silence of the night. The wanderer was hurrying away from them, having obviously noticed their glowing sashes, his size and stature painted him as a student not a teacher.

"Stop and identify yourself!" Lily called out as she broke into a run. To her surprise the curfew violator froze in place, she had expected him to make a run for it like most rule breakers do. There wasn't enough time to stop gracefully, the most she could do was twist to the side so she didn't barrel directly into the figure before her. An arm swung out to brace her and pull her upright. Lily didn't feel like she had been in danger of tripping but she turned to thank the good Samaritan regardless, only to almost bite her tongue in shock.

"Why good evening Snape." Rosier greeted in an affable manner, as if he hadn't just been hissing conspiratorially about his fellow Slytherin just moments before.

Lily scrambled back as she tried not to meet his pitch black eyes. She was suddenly thrust into the intensely uncomfortable position of needing to reinforce her commitment to ignoring him, and honour her duty as a prefect to indict him for curfew offences.

She stole a quick glance up at him, he grew taller since she last remembered, now standing equally matched in height. He had been noticeably shorter the last they spoke, outside the portrait hole.

Lily averted her eyes, resentment building again from memories that came unbidden. Thankfully Rosier was more than comfortable enough for the both of them to speak. "Well what strange fancies bring you out for a midnight stroll? You're hardly the adventurous type."

"It's nine. Not midnight." Snape growled, a hint of discomfort in his tone. Unlike Lily, he was very much the type of person to argue semantics.

Lily shot another quick glance to him only to catch his dark orbs sliding across her form. Another uncomfortable reminder of how things had changed. How he had changed. She remembered the shy boy who'd meet her eyes and only her eyes, but never so casually ogle her as he had now.

 _I had just almost fallen, perhaps he was making sure I'm uninjured?_ A hopeful voice sounded in her mind. But even as she lifted her eyes to confirm her theory his dark eyes were fixed upon her, even in the dim light they burned with a dark intensity. She suppressed a shiver and took an involuntary step backwards. That broke the spell and his eyes instantly darted away, a panicked motion that could not be mistaken for a casual panning glance.

Lily too looked away, catching the eye of her fellow prefect and unrepentant Slytherin. A strange expression was etched on his face, hidden in subtleties behind his relaxed posture and affable smile. He was watching them with a gleeful gleam, as if he were a boy with an ear to a gift he was not yet allowed to open. Lily knew whatever friendship Snape had struck with the boy it was not one of mutual well-wishes.

"As much as it would pain me, I cannot allow your rule breaking to slide, alas." Rosier sounded anything but broken up about the prospect. "I don't think docking points is necessary, but some form of punishment is needed. How many days of detention do you think this warrants, Evans?"

Lily started, being addressed directly was not something she was prepared for. "I don't- I mean. One is standard. And docking points is always…" She trailed off, unable to summon her confidence back. She hated this, being forced to confront him. It sapped all her willpower just to stop herself from wondering of his welfare. She could see even in the dark he had not yet fully recovered from the emancipation of his summer break, his cheekbones stood out prominently from his sallow face.

 _Stop it. He is no longer my concern._ But even in her heart she knew her conscience was always to be her burden. The question of ' _Did I do the right thing?'_ would always rear its obtrusive head. The question of 'Who does he have to lean on now? Who does he have to care for him?' would never be far from her mind. She already knew that answer, and knowledge of that matter did not settle her heart.

Snape appeared calm in the face of punishment, it was a strange sight to see when she remembered that even the threat of her disappointment used to send him scowling in shame. Something was different about him now, and for the life of her she could not imagine what could have changed so much in the four months they had apart.

"Come now. Surely detention is all that's necessary." Rosier offered rather insistently. Evidently even while revelling in Snape's misfortune he begrudged every point sacrificed.

Snape finally spoke, breaking his strangely dark broody demeanour. "Let me spare you the consternation. I have a hall pass from the headmaster excusing my presence past curfew." He extended a parchment, held lightly in his skeletal hand.

Rosier took the offered note, glancing over it briefly before handing it to Lily. The signature was unmistakably Dumbledore's and she did not feel the need to read the note further.

"Seeing Dumbledore? So late past school hours?" Rosier questioned with apparent polite inquisitiveness. He was an expert in hiding his insidious undertones.

Snape gave a curt nod. "And I shall be, quite frequently. At least once a week. He is my alchemy tutor."

Rosier appeared surprised. "Alchemy? You are studying alchemy?" His incredulity was evident in his voice, perhaps his first honest expression. Lily could understand why, alchemy was a very expensive class to attend, and famously hard to learn. "I mean don't get me wrong Snape. I by no means doubt your ability, I simply doubt your… means."

A light scowl touched Snape's features, no doubt incensed at the insinuations to his poverty. That was a familiar response to a familiar situation and Lily almost allowed a bubble of relief to seep onto her face.

"My alchemy kit was donated by an anonymous benefactor." He mumbled under his breath, every word of accepted charity etched a line of distaste into his scowl.

Rosier cocked his head in apparent confusion. "That is not the kind of charitable coin you tend to keep anonymous."

"I thought so too." Snape turned his dark eyes up, meeting those cold grey ones. "That is why I believe it might be from someone who wishes to remain… unknown… someone who believes I have potential… that I might… serve better with alchemical learnings." Every pause was emphasised with an unspoken connotation.

Lily felt a chill at those words as the Slytherin prefect's eyes widened. He spoke like she wasn't there, like she wouldn't understand the meaning behind his words. Did he take her for a half-wit? The truth of his inferred words, the reality of the world crushed the breath from her lungs. She suddenly wanted to cry, to scream at him, to take his shoulders in both hands and shake him until he sees sense.

The horror must have shown on her face because with one glance he looked away. His outward demeanour appeared calm but something was off, something so small Lily could have just as easily imagined it. He almost appeared… ashamed.

 _Wishful thinking._ She thought as her heart beat loud and low. This was the reality of their friendship, a harsh reminder of what she was protecting herself from when she ended things with him.

"Then watch yourself Snape." Rosier offered with a casual smirk. "Back to the dorms you pop. No dawdling."

With a silent nod Snape swept around and strode down the corridor, taking the same route to the Grand Staircase the prefects would. Lily stood silently for a moment more, watching the once familiar figure round the bend and disappear into the darkness.

"Alright I'll admit it." Rosier suddenly offered with an askew smile. "You have a way with coincidence."

* * *

A House divided was a House made vulnerable. If anything is to truly be done about this situation then Snape cannot afford to be petty.

The once-professor approached the hulking boy sitting dejected at the breakfast table, inhaling his ham and beans half-heartedly. Mulciber wore the cowl of a defeated man, too ashamed to even look up from his plate.

This was perhaps why Snape's sudden presence opposite took him so much by surprise. "What do you want, Snape?" He hissed, face tinging ruddy from rage and humiliation.

With a casual air, Snape pulled up a plate and set about gathering his own breakfast. Yoghurt, fruit and toast would do. If he was still hungry he might go for some eggs.

Mulciber watched him with hateful eyes. "Here to gloat are you? Not done having your fun?"

Bringing his cup to his lips, Snape took a deliberate sip of black tea before he answered, taking his time to glance over the boy's unguarded mind. "I'd rather have a truce, Mulciber." Those words tasted bitter on his tongue. He could not forget that this boy had tried to strike out at him through Lily, could not forgive that if he tried.

But the path he chose to take had rarely been composed of scenarios strictly to his liking. The light burned as badly as the darkness ever had, but at the very least he could not lose himself upon his path.

"Truce?" The boy frowned, an almost pondering look upon his gormless face. "Why would I accept that?" He spat.

"You're right. You're in a much better situation with me turning the whole House against you." Snape drawled, eliciting another snarl of anger from the boy sitting opposite. "But believe it or not, I do not wish to see you fall, Mulciber."

"You have a funny way of showing it." The boy muttered, but with fading vehemence. Mulciber wanted a way out of this, and it was warring with his pride. Something Snape could sympathise with.

"I will ensure you will continue to have a place among our associates." Snape continued, as he buttered his toast with a thin scraping over the top. "And I will have you continue to sit with us over on our end of the table. There needs be no division between us."

"And? What do you ask in return?"

A very Slytherin question. Because random acts of kindness do not just happen.

Snape smirked, his thin knowing smile. "There is advantages to having a well-connected Pureblood in my association. I do not plan to waste such opportunity."

"Right." Mulciber murmured slowly, a steady confidence to his voice. "This would benefit both of us."

Though the boy appeared calm and unaffected, Snape could see in his eyes the straining desperation to grasp for this olive branch. No child wishes to be alone.

"You doing charity work this morning, Snape?" Rosier appeared by Snape's shoulder, throwing Mulciber a contemptuous smile as he lounged quite comfortably at this unfamiliar end of the table.

Bristling, but very much in control, Mulciber retorted. "This benefits the both of us."

"Right." Rosier smiled in his dryly amused way, appearing not the least bit convinced.

Finishing his bite of fruit, Snape reassured the boy. "Peace, Rosier. There is much to the future than can be seen from the threshold of Hogwarts and it benefits us none to tear ourselves apart upon each other."

"Planning to be a politician, Snape?" Rosier smiled as he gathered his toasted tomatoes and hash browns, but seemingly content to let things be.

* * *

A week had passed with agonising sluggishness. Apart from attending classes Snape found he had too much free time on his hands. He could easily finish all homework given with one day of distribution, each piece of assigned writing taking no longer than an hour a piece. Snape wondered why students so often struggled with making these deadlines, it seemed so trivial. Had it not been for alchemy and his renewed struggle in the field of transfiguration, Snape would have been bereft of mental stimulation altogether.

It was perhaps fortunate that he wound up with too much time on his hands as his presence in the Slytherin common room was not just demanded, but desired. He sat on one of the plush armchairs along with Travers and Wilkes, the seventh year Death Eater destined, while the others of their gang conjured their own seating or dragged smaller chairs over.

It was a position Snape never had his previous life, his seat had always been on a conjured stool, while Mulciber's was in this chair. The fallen boy no longer had a place amongst the honoured within the aspiring Death Eaters, his place was now in the back of the circle, his presence only tolerated.

Beside Snape, Rosier took another soft backed seat, his position in his previous life, as it was in this life. Rosier knew how to find power without putting himself directly into a position of antagonism.

Avery took a chair at Snape's other side, despite his pedigree Avery never had a prominent position in the house. His father might have been one of the Dark Lord's first followers but the son was too meek to impress himself upon his peers. Black too had a seat within the circle, and the boy appeared just as disinterested with proceedings as Snape was. The two boys would exchange glances every now and then in an empathetic exchange of boredom.

It was perhaps the greatest irony that Snape would attain the honoured position, only when his aspirations was dust. He was surrounded by the youthful shadows of those who would go on to commit the most heinous atrocities. Snape could not help but feel revulsion and contrition in equal measures, for was he not once destined to do the same? The only true difference between him and his peers was only one choice.

It was this thought that pressed upon his mind as Travers boasted of a fifth year Ravenclaw muggle-born he had strung up and stuffed into a suit of armour. "… Damned boy squealed like a pig as I shoved him up the back of the suit. Was a bit of a porker too, perhaps next time for the sake of efficiency I'll just transfigure him the rest of the way."

A smattering of laughter rippled through the circle. That was all these meetings were about, pathetic boasting of heinous acts upon those they deemed to have 'deserved it,' a childish playacting of how they believed the Death Eater's inner circle worked. In some regards they were not too far off, boasting was as much ingrained in the psyche of the Slytherin adult as it was the child.

"Careful, you'll put Snape to sleep if you tell another one." Rosier's silky voice jolted Snape from his inattention. All eyes were on him as he met them glaring, Travers glowered right back, taking his disinterest very personally. It became apparent to Snape his lack of drawn conflict with Mulciber was somehow displeasing to Rosier, despite his own gains from the arrangement. He now spent much of his time trying to provoke some type of conflict between Snape and the rest of the gang, but whether it was a power play or simply the antics of a bored spoilt child he did not know.

With a suppressed sigh Snape drew himself upright from his seat. "I'm just tired," He muttered, allowing his ever present weariness to colour his voice.

"Alchemy giving you a bad time Snape?" Avery asked with emulated concern. It was a passable excuse.

"It is not an easy class to take. I best retire early tonight to better prepare in the morning." With that he took his leave, the younger Slytherins scrambling from their seats to make way. Avery too slipped from his seat and stepped back. He had been bending over backwards to appease Snape since Mulciber's fall from grace. He gambled badly, and often that meant a dizzying fall alongside his backee. But to his eternal relief Snape did not push the matter, allowing him to keep his place of favour within the gang.

As Snape stepped out of the circle a small trickle of laughter sounded from its centre, invoking his paranoid suspicion he was being mocked. Cruel laughter followed him down the halls of this school all his life, it made no difference whether he were the student or the teacher. In the end, fear was the only respect he could ever command from those cretins. A harsh lesson learned and taught his last life, a lesson he would keep in this one. A wise man heeds the lessons gifted by those who walked the path before them, only a fool would ignore the lessons of a path walked twice.

Stalking down the winding stairs into the belly of the earth Snape quickened his step. His footfalls did not echo, a skill he had mastered after years of sneaking up on rule breaking students after dark. It was perhaps this reason, when he yanked the door to his dorm open he caught Miles Lester by such surprise.

The boy yelped and darted back from the furnace in the centre of the room, apparently in the middle of toasting marshmallows, an activity not usually done in solitude. On the floor was his homework, spread out as if he'd chosen to complete them resting on his belly, rather than commandeer an empty desk in the common room.

With a panicked motion Lester set about gathering his scrolls and quills as if he feared Snape would vandalise his work. It would not surprise him in the least if someone had in the past ditched the boy's homework into the furnace. He was after all a muggle-born in a House of pureblood supremacists. He was never going to be in for an easy school life.

"Just finish your damned work." Snape growled as he sat upon his bed to work his boots from his feet. They were two sizes too small, causing the faux leather to split along the sides. But wear and tear was preferable to enduring the constriction of an ill-sized shoe. The soles had been worn thin, some parts had holes worn straight through revealing equally hole-filled socks. It did not look as if these shoes could support him if he grew much more, and he knew he had a little more growth left in him.

With his boots thrown unceremoniously to the stone floor Snape let out his long suppressed sigh and glanced up, meeting the hesitant eyes of Lester.

The boy had his books and quills l gathered in his arms but he stood frozen with indecision. No doubt he found reason to distrust Snape's words. The once-professor could not remember how he had treated Lester in his youth but he was beginning to suspect he might have been eager to take out his own frustrations upon another in an equally unfortunate position.

"I meant what I said. I won't bother you while you do your homework." Snape muttered, whatever horror he might have been in his youth he was no more. His temper and flaying tongue was the armour and weapon he wielded as a professor, but never would he ever turn it against one of his Slytherins. It was something he had impressed upon his House as a young professor, perhaps the only positive legacy he had ever left behind. A Slytherin who could not find a place within his own House would find themselves completely alone and vulnerable.

His first talk with his new charges each year had been to convey these rules. No Slytherin should ever attack one of their own, no Slytherin should ever be made excluded, and no matter their creed or heritage, under the domain of the snake all are allies, they had enemies enough without turning against one another.

It proved a popular rule, it never took too much effort to have them adapt it. At their core every child wanted to be accepted, nobody wished to be alone. So Snape had ensured the vulnerable young in his charge had at the very least him, and each other to count on. While he would use discipline and fear to control the children of other Houses, he would never impress his forceful means over his own, and in return they ensured he never needed to.

Hesitantly Lester knelt down and spread out his parchments again. His inkwell had tipped in his haste to remove it and stained his hands and half his scrolls, he stared at the mess half in despair. Snape could see by the textbooks laid out the boy had been working on his History of Magic, another Thursday class for sixth years. Why do students always leave things to the last minute?

"Use Tergeo." Snape growled. "If you're careful you can salvage it."

Lester looked up at him in surprise. "Thanks." He uttered before suddenly averting his eyes as if he was chastised for speaking out of turn.

Snape turned his nose up at the boy's pathetic attempts at the Siphoning Charm and pulled out his own textbook, 'The Basic Principles of Alchemy.' He renewed it at the library earlier and after revising his fifth and sixth year transfiguration theories the going was a lot smoother.

"Tergeo..." Lester attempted once again, his voice taking on a resigned tone. Snape had been getting ready to settle into bed with his reading when his own mind prompted him. He may not be a professor now but his learned lessons in life would continue to serve him, as would the morals he developed through the difficult path he walked.

Without a word Snape summoned the parchment from the wide eyed boy's hand. With a slow methodical wave the ink began to fall away in layers. Working with potions Snape knew how to separate liquids on vellum. It was harder when it was the same ink as the writing but it was still possible so long as the damage was fresh. The liquid portion fell away first, then slowly he pulled out the ink imprints until only the impress of quill marks remained.

With a quick flick he sent the parchment back to the boy's extended hands. "Trace over what's left with ink."

"Thanks." Lester uttered, this time not averting his eyes. A strange puzzlement touched his features. "Why are you being nice to me?"

Snape weighed his words. It was not in his nature to be _nice_ , but it was no longer in his nature to be cruel, at least not to outcast Slytherins. After a moment he decided to not answer the question directly. "Why did the hat put you in Slytherin, Lester?"

"I don't know." Was his muttered reply, awash with bitterness. Snape did not need to hear the answer, he saw it shining brightly upon the surface of the boy's mind before he had turned his eyes away.

"You did not choose this House did you?" Snape continued. "Of course, why would you? When every child would have warned you about the dark house of Slytherin from Platform nine-and-three-quarters to the steps of the Great Hall."

A frown twisted across Lester's features. "It said Slytherin would suit me…" He muttered. "Said my thirst to prove myself painted me undoubtedly a Slytherin. Against all my wishes it placed me here."

The Sorting hat would only heed a child's choice in the events of a Hatstall. If it believed there was no doubt then chose without any other consideration. "You were placed in a difficult situation." Snape acknowledged in an even tone, not committing to any false shows of empathy.

"Ha!" Lester barked a half-hearted laugh. "I even tried to pretend I was a half-blood, didn't take long for anyone to figure that one out."

A boy cast adrift in the isolated House, a House that had not yet learned to look after its own. Snape at the very least had the twisted support of his peers. The dark path they lead him down had been horrific, the scars of that choice would never leave him, but not for a moment did he ever consider he was better off alone in Hogwarts. Not after being alone at home, and alone in the world. Snape may have chosen in later life to dissociate himself with it all, but that was not a choice that a child should ever have to make.

After a moment's consideration Snape spoke his mandate in a quiet even tone. "No Slytherin should ever have to stand alone. If you promise me something I'll find a place for you."

Lester's eyes grew wide, hesitant hope scrawled across his features. "What would you have me do?"

With a thin lipped smile Snape impressed upon the boy. "Watch my back for those who would see me fall. Warn me of plots you overhear." He nodded eagerly and without hesitation, a small price to pay for a place to belong. But there was one last danger to caution him to. "And when this is all over, do not try to follow the House to where they would go. The Dark Lord's side is no place for muggle-borns."

* * *

The thin film of dark liquid bubbled within the cauldron. Liquidised lead, the universal transmutation base material due to its molecular density. Carefully Snape stirred it with a flick of his wand, his hands gripped the edge of the cauldron, shielded with an invisible barrier to protect him from the toxic substance. With a low mutter under his breath he cast again into the liquid brew, allowing the destabilised metal to absorb the magic and its intent.

He didn't yet know what he was looking for but he followed the instructions to the letter. Three casts of a molecular phase-shift transfiguration between each stir of the material, never allow it to reform in the process. It was a feat of incredible juggling of charms and two different types of transfiguration that put perspiration upon Snape's brow. He did not know why an Outstanding in Charms wasn't added to class requirements.

With one last application of the spell he took a deep breath and began chanting the incantation. In a deep voice he issued a ringing command as he upended the cauldron, allowing the toxic material to spill onto the table. With the magical catalyst, the Focus Stone settled in the heart of the runic table, Snape directed the forming mass into a neat cluster in the table's magical centre, not far from its catalyst. It slowly shrunk before his eyes, the colouration tinged orange as a metallic sheen applied itself to the surface. A small bead of copper sat in the centre of the transmutation table, in place of where the liquid lead once was.

A light smattering of enthusiastic applause sounded from beyond the mirror. "Well done Mr Snape. That was a very good result for your first attempt at transmutation."

Professor Flamel seemed oddly delighted that Snape's pound of lead turned into four ounces of copper. Snape flicked the little knob of metal unenthusiastically, not in the least thrilled by the result.

"Now. I know that look. Not happy with the results? Of your first transmutation no less." Flamel tsked. "Most students would not even be able to produce that. It usually takes months of practice just to be able to cast the second spell while holding the reagent in its liquid form, they don't like staying that way at room temperature. You managed it in one try." That assessment appeased Snape a fraction as he gave the orange pebble another flick. "However if I might venture a suggestion. Wandless casting. The reason why you are having so much difficulty juggling spells is because the technique was always meant to be done ambidextrously. Holding the reagent in liquid form with your wand hand, and casting the alteration with the other."

Flamel held his wand out in demonstration, altering the lump of copper he had sitting on his own table beyond the mirror into a liquid state. After a few silent passes with his left hand he released the material and it coalesced into a dense grey ball, approximate to the amount he started with.

"Nickle." The alchemist observed as he rolled the ball about the table. "You see the sort of affinity with spellcasting this art demands from you?"

Snape frowned at the alchemist's result, then looked down at his own. All six hundred years of difference in power and experience on display. "I shall work on my transfiguration." Snape finally relented, putting a smile on the old alchemist's face.

"I believe you shall Mr Snape. For the time being I like what I see. Not many could juggle these complex spells one handed like you can. Albus was right about you. We'll make an alchemist of you yet." Had Snape been a child these simple words of praise would have put him in a good mood. As a bitter jaded adult it fell hollow upon his ears.

"Well that's it for today. Homework would be a… let's say foot and a half on spell permanence upon substance rendered in molecularly disassembled form." Snape gave a curt nod and the mirror faded back to his own reflection.

Shouldering his bag he laid it gently upon his back. The sores had finally healed due to his calm and care, but still he would not take undue risks until the last scab shrivels and peels. He pushed out the door into the corridor, his lesson swirling about his mind. Having read that chapter the night before he did not believe that was the kind of homework that would assist him with his current stymie. Perhaps later tonight, using his some of his tutorial time for actual tutorial work was in order.

In the distance thunder pealed, rain gusting through the unshuttered windows into the hallway and ran rivers down the stone floors. Magically conjured culverts appeared along the edges of the stonework, forming a drain edging the length of the floor. Squelching footsteps sounded as two tall Gryffindor boys made their way down from deeper down the corridors.

The Prewett twins, Snape narrowed his eyes. Their resemblance to their nephews was not just down to looks. Undoubtedly they were off making mischief again, likely through the use of the secret passage way that connected the seventh floor to Hogsmead grounds. How else could they explain their absolute saturation? Filch had his work cut out for him today without these two clowns treading mud down the corridor.

Snape bit back his chastisement. This was not his battle to fight, not at this time, not in this state. As the two redheads passed they glared at him with open hostility, undoubtedly the sight of a Slytherin on the seventh floor was an unwelcome one. He sent a glare right back, fearing no reprisal. Even in their seventh year they would be no match for him should they choose to challenge him.

They walked silently down the corridor, headed for Gryffindor Tower no doubt. Unfortunately that was en route to the Grand Staircase and Snape could not help but tail them. They rounded on him as he knew they would.

"Shove off Snake, quit following us!" The wider one demanded. He could not be bothered to learn their given names this time round either.

"If you haven't noticed this is the way to the stairs." Snape growled. Gryffindors possessed a terrible lack of external awareness. "If you don't mind I wish to pass." He stepped purposefully around them, with every intention of reaching the stairs without a fuss.

But he was stopped midstride by a powerful shudder of hatred as he laid eyes on that arrogant Potter with his arrangement of Marauders, striding purposefully from the Fat Lady's corridor.

* * *

It had been the raised voices that alerted her of conflict. Lily dashed up the stairs, ready to enforce prefectural order. The wet weather always caused a little anxiety within the outdoorsy Gryffindor horde so she had been expecting it all day.

However the voice she heard were not one of her Gryffindors.

"What of it Potter?" Snape's voice rang over the stairwell, stopping Lily in her tracks.

That self-assured voice of James Potter answered back. "I'll tell you what I think. I think you're lying in wait for Evans. Waiting for when she pops up the stairs."

"I don't have to answer to you!"

"But you will."

Lily could not hesitate any longer. She urged herself to dash up the last flight of steps, inserting herself right in the middle of seven drawn wands. Somehow both Fabian and Gideon Prewett found themselves participating in this protracted grudge match. All eyes turned to her, the twins lowered their wands quickly, assuming innocent expressions. James and his Marauders barely moved.

"Heya Evans." And a quick ruffle of his hair was the only response she got out of that boy, he didn't even have the decency to look surprised, his wand still levelled on his opponent. Snape on the other hand lowered his wand, eyes wide, anger fading. Mortification had taken its place.

"I want everyone to lower their wands this instant!" Lily demanded, eyes fixed firmly on the still aggressing Marauders. Almost everyone leapt to her command. "You too Black." Reluctantly he obeyed, glare still murderously fixed on the Slytherin, teeth bared in a sinister grin as if mocking a prey who got away only by the grace of good fortune.

James took a step towards Lily, hands raised in a placating gesture. "He was sitting in that empty alchemy classroom for an hour, waiting to ambush you."

Snape's eyes widened, then glared murderously at the Marauder. "I was in Alchemy class you dull nitwit. Had you spied competently you'd have realised that."

James snorted in derision. "You? Alchemy? You can't even afford a clean pair of underwear."

For a moment it looked as if Snape was on the verge of hexing his mocking tormentor, starting what would be a very one sided fight. In fact Lily had expected it, self-control had never been the ill-tempered boy's strong suit. It was to her immense surprise then that the rage suddenly disappeared from his face, his eyes took on a blank glossy quality. Without another word he marched forward, ducking around the gathered Gryffindors, brushing closely past Lily. She turned in shock, watching his retreating figure head for the stairs.

He suddenly tripped over thin air, falling into the railing as Black's voice crowed out "Watch your step Snivellus!" And a cruel sniggering sounded behind her. To his credit Snape did not lash back, he simply pulled himself upright and proceeded down the stairs in a dignified silence.

Acting in every way unlike the boy she remembered.

Lily rounded on the giggling pack of children, outraged. "I thought you were above that!" Though angered by everyone involved she directed that to James. James who had appeared to be maturing. James who was supposed to be becoming more noble than trouble.

"The Trip Jinx was Padfoot." James quickly pointed to his best friend. Black rolled his eyes but did not seem at all bothered about getting thrown under the hippogriff.

"That wasn't what I meant and you know it!" Lily was close to tears. "Why can't you all just leave Severus alone?"

"Oh back to Severus now is he?" James asked coolly, his displeasure evident on his face.

"I don't need you managing my affairs." She hissed.

"But it seems you need a reminder." James waved his hand, indicating down the corridor. "That creep was lying in wait. Not moving, for an hour. Only when you started making your way up the stairs did he come out and position himself." He waved his hands about as he spoke, frustration manifesting itself in extra energy. "Can't you see I saved you from a bad situation? Can't you see I saved you from that evil rot Snivellus?"

Lily could match frustration with frustration. "Get it into your thick skull Potter. He was _**not**_ stalking me! And he did not lie about having alchemy classes!" James opened his mouth as if he was about to retort but Lily cut him off. "So yes he'll be coming up to the seventh floor. Yes he'll be spending hours alone in that classroom. And no it is _not_ your business to manage how far he is away from me! That is my business! You understand?!"

Finally cowed James averted his eyes, Black glared at her as if she was the perpetrator of the terrible misdeed. Remus hung back, as he always did, pretending he was not part of the picture, with Peter hiding timidly behind that useless prefect's cloak.

"And you!" Lily rounded on the Prewett twins, edging slowly towards the Portrait Corridor. "You are tracking mud everywhere!" They squeaked and hurried the rest of the way, squelching with every step. Though bold rule breakers they were, even they were unwilling to face Lily when her temper was so raw.

With one last withering glare to the Marauders and more specifically James, Lily turned on her heels and marched down the Fat Lady's Corridor, fuming that they would presume to act so.

And hurting from the darkness she knew her friend would never return from.

* * *

A/N: Canon was very specific that Lily and James started dating in 7th year, but realistically sparks would have started flying before then. Though this is not a Lily x James fic, it wouldn't be correct of me to ignore the fact that they had something between them.

Next Update: Friday 19th May 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 8: Regrets from a Distant Past**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	8. Regrets from a Distant Past

**Chapter 8: Regrets from a Distant Past**

Dreams haunt his night.

Regret. Agony. Cradling the body of that lifeless girl. Ariana was it?

But even as those images came to mind they faded into the grey. Even as he cradled the body of that young dead girl she faded, replaced instead with the cold still form of Lily.

With a jerk Snape awoke, heart racing, tears in his eyes. With gritted teeth he wiped them from his face. His own nightmares were returning, little by little each night, as Dumbledore's nightmares faded away.

Slowly he drew himself up, settling his wildly beating heart. Sweat beaded his brow as he buried his face in his hands. Those nightmares had been especially insidious during the last years of his previous life, ever since he was _gifted_ the memory of the Dark Lord's murder.

A crime that in truth had been as much his own as it had been that monster's.

With a muffled sigh he pulled himself upright, slicing open his Silencing Charm. No pain bothered him, no stiffness haunted his muscles despite what he was certain was a tense night of thrashing teeth clenching. This was one of the great benefits of a youthful body, almost counterbalancing all of the negatives. Almost. Because hormones was not something he ever wanted to deal with again.

It was fortunate then salacious thoughts were as so far not at the forefront of his far older mind. Though his hormones caused mortifying thoughts to come unbidden he was far too wise and cynical to indulge any of them. Nothing made a fool of him more than this pathetic drive. Wisdom of age had taught him some people were simply meant to learn strength and simply endure. It did not change how blasted unstable this all made him. He would constantly run hot and cold under the collar without reason, it was all he could do to keep himself reigned in.

As he quietly pulled himself out of bed he glanced to the darkened windows. It came as no surprise to him he woke too early once again. He slipped on his robes and picked up a change of clothes, starting his day with a quick shower when the bathrooms were empty.

More than a month after his rebirth Snape was beginning to find his routine in student life. It was amazing how quickly a young mind could adapt to a situation. He expected to struggle to find his studying stride but he fell back into the student's rhythm with remarkable ease. Homework was always complete within one to two days of its assignment leaving a lot of time for free study.

He had expected to struggle with the workload by now, his memory of his last years of school had always featured it prominently. Perhaps it had been an illusion created from the lack of contact with Lily, having no other anchor for his life to hold onto. Perhaps too his spell development had provided the extra layer of pressure in his youth. Especially for Sectumsempra, the spell he dedicated the prime portion of his time to for the purpose of securing his place in the new order. That path was dead to him, set aflame with the letter Lucius had sent him.

Near-scalding water poured down around his ears. Snape pressed his head against the cool stone partition, allowing the clash of hot and cold to distract him from the disturbances of his mind. Even a month into his new life he could not shake the phantoms of the last, especially now, when his sleep become disturbed by the mistakes that was his own.

Despite the unadorned pale white skin upon the underside of his left arm, he could still feel the disturbing tingle of the Dark Mark. Perhaps it was an illusion of his mind, a manifestation of his guilt, but none the less it persisted. Along with his nightmares.

He sighed as his skin reddened under the near-scalding torrent. His mental health had been far better with Dumbledore's nightmares pretending to be his own. It wasn't just the comfort of avoiding his own demons, but the reassurance that foolish mistakes were not just the symptom of the weak and depraved. For if a man like Albus Dumbledore hid a past like he did. If he found a way to carve himself out of that mire…

It made a lost man feel far less alone.

With a quick twist of the taps Snape shut off the water. He stood in silence for a moment, watching the curl of steam rise from his pale skin. He had endured all of this alone before, he bore his own conscience admirably along his short fruitless life. But things were different now, he was not the boy he was at this age, and apart from imposing a few changes to the order of his House he had no way of divorcing himself with his situation of the present.

Through Dumbledore was perhaps the only true difference he was making with his new life. Dumbledore was certainly the only person who knew of his sordid past, or as one might see it, his aborted future. And Dumbledore was the only man he knew who regretted as much as he did over actions of the past.

How had he come to terms with it? How does it not twist him? Embitter him? Saturate his life as it did Snape's?

It was a question that began to form in his mind after those foreign memories began to fade. The first day his own nightmares returned.

Would he take badly to questions? Snape certainly would have, but Albus Dumbledore was a different man at his core. A teacher in true. Would it be presumptive of a trapped and powerless man, filled with regrets, to ask the only man he could, how? How it was that he found peace with the world, and with himself.

Perhaps it would be received badly, perhaps he would not get the answers he sought. But the only reason to not ask was his own sense of pride.

And after weeks of sleep-disturbing nightmares along with maintaining his daily ruse, of living a routine devoid of stimulation, of fighting, struggling with his frustrated teenaged self, his pride appeared a small sacrifice for a measure of peace of mind.

* * *

It should have come as no surprise to Snape when he decided to turn up to the headmaster's office unannounced and early in the morning that Dumbledore might not be in. Not even Fawkes sat upon his perch, the office stood completely bare and unmonitored. Likely the headmaster was resting up in his tower, his phoenix resting along with him.

He stepped over the threshold, slightly irritated he did not feel the push of a Security Ward ejecting him from the room. Perhaps then, Dumbledore had set his security to the distinction of friend or foe, Snape remembered the old man had a propensity for such wards. If this was so, Snape's intentions would not have warranted expulsion from the premises, after all he was simply here to seek answers.

Answers he knew he could find, even without Dumbledore's presence. For it was a matter of memories, and Dumbledore had a device here that could answer him possibly better than the headmaster himself could.

He slowly stalked around the desk, pausing before the cabinet that housed the Pensieve. Hesitantly he pulled it open. No alarm tripped, no great force blasted him back. There was only the Pensive, sitting silent and dark within its great stone holder.

Pressing his wand to his temple Snape drew out a line of memory, from the part of his mind knew he could not physically recall. With a gentle twist the long silvery strand broke from the tip and flew gently into the bowl, bathing the surface with light. With a quick practiced motion Snape leant over and pressed his face into the swirling memories. He did not have to brace himself, he was familiar with how a Pensieve worked. With the sensation of falling that accompanied entry. With the swirling confusion of light and sound that would issue forth. So too was expected the materialisation of a strange new reality, of the noticeably off-colour palate and slightly garbled sounds. But where it was not familiar was the setting and the characters involved. Whereas Snape had only ever dived his own memories in the past, a different mind was a new territory.

Snape glanced about his location, craning his neck to take in the high smooth-laid stone walls, the tall hollow hallways, the echoing screams of the insane. The memories he plucked from his partitioned mind arranged themselves in order, and it seemed the earliest was that of the visit to Azkaban.

Snape tried to suppress a shudder, this was one threshold he wished never to cross. By only the grace of Albus Dumbledore had he avoided imprisonment his last life, but at the time he behaved less than gratefully. He had still been a wild vengeful child at heart, still too raw from his grief, too burdened by his mistakes, not yet wise enough for remorse. When Dumbledore spoke at his trial all Snape could do was sit slumped in the stand, unresponsive and unthankful for the headmaster's support. For without it he would have been quite familiar with these halls, those screams might have included his own.

His ministrations was disturbed by echoing footsteps. He turned slowly, knowing who it was he was going to meet, but unprepared for the form he took. Albus Dumbledore, unmarked by the years, his auburn haired untouched by silver, no beard adorned his unlined face revealing a sharp angular chin. Had it not been for his overly long straight nose the young Albus Dumbledore would have had an uncommonly handsome face.

His blue eyes was where things differed the most. The serene blue eyes of the Albus Dumbledore he knew was set in his young counterpart awash with troubled thoughts. The frown that touched his not-yet bushy brow had creased his not-yet lined forehead and darkened his deep blue eyes.

This was the visit to his father, Snape remembered. It had to be because of emotions he felt in this very dream, because he actually sympathised with this young Albus. Empathy was not a common state for Severus Snape. He did not venture often into the feelings of others.

Albus strode forward, his steps hesitant but none the less it echoed loudly. Before him strode a guard robed in the uniform of Azkaban, his hound Patronus lighting the way. Snape followed, silencing his steps on instinct, a needless action in this territory of inexistence but he could not help but feel like the intruder.

They stopped before a metal door, the prison cell that housed Albus' father. He watched as the boy physically steel himself with a breath, his fear plain upon his face.

The guard reached over and slid open the panel. Snape did not have to look to know the sight that must have greeted the child. He focused instead on the young Albus, those blue eyes widened, the corners twisted upon his downcast lips. "Father…" he whispered.

No answer came as Snape knew it to be. "Father. It's me." Albus insisted more loudly. His expression softened briefly with the relief he must have felt when Dumbledore the senior met his eyes.

"… I'm sorry." Came the weak emancipated voice from beyond the iron door. A calm fell over the young Albus' features. "…Take care of her… for me." After a silent moment boy's eyes cast downwards, no longer able to maintain eye contact with the man beyond the peephole. The anger and frustration Snape knew to have been building within the boy never surfaced, at least not in a form Snape recognised.

The scene shifted, suddenly he stood upon a hill. Glancing about Snape quickly spotted his quarry, and knew immediately which memory he was witnessing. The young Albus stood silently with his blue eyes were cast down, a coy smile touching his lips. Beside him stood Gellert Grindelwald, young, tall and exceedingly handsome, a shadow of the darkness he was yet to become.

Albus' eyes finally did lift from the ground, a shy glance at his companion, unaware he was making eyes over a man who would become the greatest dark wizard of their time. Snape felt a shudder wash over him, disgusted by the empathetic humiliation he felt for the boy when he was caught peering not discretely enough. Foolish youth, with foolish hormones promoted acts that precipitated in humiliation. Even Dumbledore was not immune.

The young Albus quickly turned away, mortification awash his reddened face. His companion watched him coolly, his mismatched eyes did not turn away in disgust, nor sparkle with mischief or soften with acknowledgement. For who could mistake that sort of a reaction, even if it was from another boy.

Instead Snape saw in there an expression he knew too well, learned from years of close association with Slytherins. An almost predatory gleam shone within his dark and grey eyes. He reached over and took the blushing boy's elbow, turning him around almost forcefully.

"For the greater good." Gellert stated firmly, his grip tightened on the smaller boy's arms. The unscrupulous expression on the dark wizard's eyes disappeared under the scrutiny of Albus' blue eyes, never revealing to the boy the dark workings within that no doubt insidious mind. "Don't lose sight of that. I'll need you by my side for what is to come."

The blush receded from Albus' face, blue eyes never wandering from that mismatched pair. The boy nodded, determination replacing fancy upon his young foolish face. _He's using you._ Snape thought grimly. Perhaps a most fitting origin for the puppet master Albus Dumbledore would become.

The world shifted again. The scene that laid before him was the one he'd known best. The one scene that kept cropping up over and over again in his dreams. The one nightmare that remained still, even when all others faded.

The girl laid still upon the floor, the haze of spell fire drifted on the air. Even extracted the memory would always be incomplete. It would never show who laid the deadly blow. Perhaps Dumbledore had intended it that way, perhaps he never found the courage to face the truth. Perhaps he Obliviated that part so he could no longer find the strand to complete it.

If that were the case Snape could not blame him. After all, he too had been tempted by that easy escape. It was only by his own nature, his firm belief he deserved the pain, did he ever choose the harder road.

Before him the scene played out as he remembered it. The young Aberforth howled at his brother, his face contorted with grief and rage. Albus stood silently, taking the abuse, blue eyes shimmering from the tears that were no doubt forming. Gellert Grindelwald stepped back, eyes meeting the shimmering blue ones of his once friend. With a scowling realisation the young dark wizard finally stepped away and slipped out the door, leaving the two grieving brothers without a backwards glance. With that the door slammed closed, Aberforth calmed to a low mournful sobbing, Albus finally took a long shuddering breath and allowed the tears to fall from his eyes.

The scene faded away, the sorrowful silence penetrated suddenly by the cacophony of shouts and spell fire. For a second Snape started, reeling from the chaos around him, his fight or flight instincts aflame. A red light streaked towards him and he threw up a shield in response, forgetting momentarily his magic did not work in the realm of a memory. The spell passed through him harmlessly and he was finally able to calm himself, to divorce him from the chaotic scene around him.

 _This is not reality_. He reminded himself _. This a memory of a time long passed_.

His eyes searched the faces of those that surrounded him, his calm finally allowing his observant mind to work. These fanatics did not wear masks, they wore their madness plainly upon their faces. Around each of their necks sat a symbol Snape had seen once before, the symbol inscribed upon the ring that would eventually lead to an elder Dumbledore's death.

Through the writhing crowd he finally spotted him. Many years must have passed since the memory of his dead sister. Lines adorned his brows and marked the corners of his eyes. A short beard, flecked with silver had formed upon his chin, a shadow of the great majesty it was to become. His once straight nose was now crooked, bringing his features ever so much closer to the Dumbledore he was to become. The greatest difference perhaps was his posture. He stood tall and proud and strong, no shadow of that burdened boy remained, his face untouched by uncertainty.

Untouched by fear. Fear Snape knew the man would have felt at this very moment.

It was then he knew, Albus Dumbledore feared like any man, even if it did not show. That was the courage of Gryffindors, that seemingly foolhardy immunity to the wisdom of survival. A mask to wear for the benefit of those around them, but a mask shaped from a true courage within. For Albus Dumbledore feared at this moment, he feared deeply, but not once had he ever allowed that fear to turn him from his path.

The metaphorical, and physical path that opened up before him. Formed as he parted the combatants that stood against him, revealing the dark wizard, his once friend, Gellert Grindelwald.

Albus Dumbledore stepped calmly down that formed corridor, the battlefield around him fell suddenly silent. The maddened Grindelwald greeted him with fury and hatred, a look of betrayal that had no place upon the face of the man who walked out of a grieving household.

No words were exchanged, no words were needed. With a savage swipe an enormous gout of fire swept its way into Dumbledore's path. and without so much as a gesture of his hand the flames were brushed away. Ash flecked down upon them, burnt remnants of the dust and smoke upon the air.

Around them the battle died completely. A great circle had formed, allies and foes alike watched with eager eyes, witnessing what would go down in history has the greatest duel ever fought.

A duel Severus Snape had never thought he would ever bear witness.

With a great snarl Grindelwald swung his wand down upon his old friend, no words passed his lips as a deadly red curse burst from the tip of his wand. Bringing his wand down in a short sharp strike Dumbledore met that spell with a silent streak of red of his own and the two spells clashed and dissipated in a burst of bleaching white. Before the light had even faded another bolt had struck forth, headed for Dumbledore, but it passed through thin air as the man no longer stood in that spot. Instead the young Dumbledore appeared, two feet behind the dark wizard, wand swinging forth ready to deliver a silent strike.

With unnatural reflexes Grindelwald spun on his spot, wand flicked upwards with a shield upon its tip. It flared powerfully, knocking Dumbledore back physically by the backlash of his own spell.

The dark wizard's empty hand swung up in an open-palmed motion, sending a great jolt of invisible magic right into the aggressing Gryffindor. Flung backwards Dumbledore stumbled, but before he even planted both feet firmly in the ground he Disapparated, appearing once again behind his opponent.

Grindelwald turned once again ready to defend himself as a streak of red smashed against his shield. He thrust his palm out, Knock-Back Jinx flung easily forth, smashing powerfully against Dumbledore's own wandless shield.

The dark wizard brought his own wand around, a form that Snape suddenly recognised. For it was the wand that became Dumbledore's, the wand for which Snape's own life had been ended for. From its tip issued forth that invisible shockwave, more powerful than any Snape had ever seen. It smashed into Dumbledore's Shield Charm, splintering it and sending the man flying.

Albus Dumbledore did not land gracefully this time. He skidded in the earth, face awash with blood. The blow had shattered his nose, as well as his wand. His hand opened to release the splinters, unarmed and seemingly defeated.

With a flick of his hand he propelled himself upright, stumbling as he found his feet. With a gasp he doubled over, clutching his chest. A wheezing noise issued as he breathed.

Grindelwald grinned maliciously as he advanced with slow methodical steps. His power was unmatched by anything Dumbledore could muster, that much was clear. To him victory must have seemed assured.

But Snape knew raw power was not always the deciding factor of a duel, and he knew for certain it did not to decide this one.

Pulling himself up straight, that young Dumbledore, face smeared with blood, looked his opponent in the eye. With one shuddering wheezing breath he Disapparated once more. This time Grindelwald was prepared, he was already partway through his turn before Dumbledore finished his materialisation.

But so too had Dumbledore. Without so much as touching the ground he disappeared again, allowing the white bolt to sail harmlessly through the spot. Grindelwald spun again, certain of the pattern his opponent was taking.

But that had been his error.

For above him a great shadow loomed, and too late did he face upwards as Albus Dumbledore dove towards him, striking him down with a blast of red. Not content in going quietly, Grindelwald swung upwards as the stunner struck him, a snarl upon his lips, directing at his opponent a streak of white light.

With a great burst of song and ash Fawkes materialised before the falling Dumbledore, absorbing the powerful white blast. The blow burnt the bird to cinders, bleeding through to the falling man. With one last swing of his wand Dumbledore slowed his fall and slammed into the ground, only lightly battered by his momentum. Smoke curled from his body, singed but un-maimed by the weakened curse. It had not been dissipated in its entirety by his phoenix' sacrifice. A great gaping wound was torn into his knee, a remnant of where that deadly curse had struck him directly.

Battered, bleeding and singed, bruises covering his face and hands, his robes torn from the madness of his encounter, Dumbledore turned his head. His eyes met those mismatched ones levelled on his own, opened wide despite the loss of consciousness, frozen in a snarl of hatred.

A glance so different to the one he bestowed as a boy. A look no longer filled with adoration, but a calm acceptance. He reached over one shaking hand, taking a hold the unconscious man's hand, and prised the dark wizard's fingers from the wand still firmly clasped in his grasp.

The wand of Gellert Grindelwald, the wand that became Albus Dumbledore's, and the wand that the Dark Lord was destined to take. Snape realised he watched its heritage, the moment of its passing from one hand to another.

With his unburdened hand, Dumbledore reached into a pile of ash formed between the two fallen wizards. From within he brought forth a small bald bird, squawking meekly, eyes squeezed shut against the harshness of the day.

With Grindelwald's wand firmly in his grasp and baby Fawkes cradled against him, Dumbledore finally closed his eyes, just as the press of wizards and wizards rushed forth to his side. Allies ready to minister to his wounds and incarcerate his fallen opponent. An end the chapter darkness that was the reign of Gellert Grindelwald.

With a blink Severus Snape stood once more in the empty circular office. The silence and calm was offsetting after the calamity of that final memory.

Glancing around with a subdued air, Snape noted Dumbledore had not yet returned. That was fortunate, for when before he had merely suspected himself of prying into the man's personal affairs, he now felt he could be doing nothing but. With a quick flick of his wand he dispelled those memories from the basin and shut the cabinet door, restoring it to its original form.

Quickly he headed for the exit, not willing to risk another moment. Worried that if Dumbledore's wards did not see him as a foe before, his blatant breach of the headmaster's privacy might see him painted as such. But even as he crossed the threshold no spell met his passage, even as he slipped down the spiral stairs he remained unimpeded. When he stepped forth into the Gargoyle corridor, mind thrumming with swirling thoughts, he strode forth down the hall without a second glance back.

* * *

The view from the astronomy tower reached the far corners of Hogwarts Grounds, touched golden by dawn's first light. In the far expanse dark patches roiled, whispers of storms threatened from the distant peaks of the Scottish mountains. Leaning gently against the railing Snape took in the sweeping view from the highest point at Hogwarts. It was a calm morning, the only sounds he could hear was that of distant birdsong and the occasional shriek of a Thestral or Hippogriff. He never bothered to learn the difference between the beast cries.

Snape didn't know what brought him here in this moment, perhaps it had been the memories swirling about his mind, the thought of Albus Dumbledore. The history of that great man had once ended upon this tower, by Snape's own hands. A place of great significance to the both of them.

That was a moment where he felt the most betrayed by the man. After all he had been made to swear, to never again harm another, to never delve into the dark arts again, he was cornered by Albus Dumbledore to land the killing blow. An action that propelled him into his greatest year of solitude, to have immersed him so deeply into the darkness, and burdened him so completely with the hatred of those he had once called allies.

An action that ultimately lead Snape directly to his own death. For was the Dark Lord not seeking ownership of Dumbledore's wand when he struck down the killer?

In many ways death had come as a relief, but it did nothing minimise the pain and fear of the moment. A fitting finale to the year he had been forced to endure on Albus Dumbledore's behest. And with his final act being to pass on the old man's ultimate plan to Potter, to Lily's son, so that he too may choose to sacrifice himself for the Greater good.

Snape snarled, clenching his hand against the railing. _Choose?_ There was no choice. Not for the foolish Gryffindor that Potter was. The moment he would learn that the only way to defeat the Dark Lord was through the sacrifice of his own life, he would not hesitate. That much Snape was certain of.

And with him the last of Lily would disappear from that world. That child she had died for. That spark of light he worked so hard to protect.

The Potter boy he could not bear to look at, with his mother's eyes shining from his father's face. An eternal reminder that Lily had chosen James bloody Potter and forgotten Severus Snape entirely.

But in the end, no matter what he might have thought of the boy, Snape had not wanted him to die. He was the last piece of Lily in that world, his life was the everlasting reminder of her love.

And Dumbledore had demanded it for 'the greater good.'

Snape gritted his teeth, willing the failures of his life into the silent corner of his mind. The first half had been his own doing, his own foolishness brought damnation to himself and the only person he ever loved. The second half had been Dumbledore, bleeding what merge scrap he had left into the dust.

Blood upon the alter for his 'greater good.'

It was good to finally have a face to the name. That seemingly benign vocation had its roots dredged so deep into darkness that Grindelwald stood upon the other end. Though Dumbledore had never once uttered it through the time Snape had known him, his actions had screamed the phrase, right till the end.

He demanded much sacrifice from those around him, many lives, many futures, for the future of the greater whole. From Snape he had demanded everything. His life, his free will, and anything that ever mattered to him. One man's complete suffering, for the greater good.

" _Then I leave you with one last gift. So that you may know you are not alone."_

Was this what Dumbledore had meant by giving him those memories? To tell him he had made terrible choices too? To force Snape to empathise? To ensure he would serve him once again, despite every shred of evidence pointing to a man who cannot be trusted to act in Snape's interest?

In a world where he was forced to hide his true self from the world, Dumbledore had become the only man who knew Snape truly for who he was. It was true before, and it was true once again. That ancient wizard was able to procure himself a powerful ally and weapon in the early stage of the war, just with the offer of a few select memories. He created the illusion of being the only man who could understand Snape's tragic situation so that the younger man would foolishly trust him once more. That was a fine bit of manipulation. After all nobody wants to be alone.

With a shiver of self-loathing, Snape gritted his teeth. Slowly he leaned his forehead against a post, allowing the coolness of the stonework to douse his spiralling thoughts.

In the end, despite everything, he had made the choice again without a second's hesitation. He pledged himself to Dumbledore, with no guarantees of any gain, knowing very much the type of betrayal the man was capable of, just for one chance.

So that she may live.

It is all he asked for now. That she may be allowed to continue to exist, that there would be a world where her light would never die.

Even if that light was lost to him forever.

Depressing as his brooding thoughts had been, a loud clanking and moaning tore him into an equally depressing reality. For whatever feckless reason the Baron chose to arrive then, cornering Snape in an area that was out of bounds to students. In hindsight he supposed it was his own bloody fault, having been a resident in Hogwarts for very much his entire life and a Slytherin at that, he should have remembered the Astronomy tower was the Slytherin ghost's favourite haunt.

"What's this? Student in the Astronomy Tower?" In his time the Baron had been the natural ally in keeping the Head of Slytherin informed about student rule breaking within his ghostly realm.

Snape sighed and bowed his head over the railing. Detention on top of everything he had to deal with. That's just great. He supposed he could take solace in the fact he had an abundant amount of free time. Spending it in detention was as good as anything.

The ghostly figure floated through Snape and spun to face him. "Chin up boy! Look when I speak to you." The Baron barked, an almost frenzied look twisted into his ghostly face. "If you plan on jumping I will tell you now, I shall not house your ghost within Slytherin!"

 _Of all the-_ "I'm not suicidal!" Snape snapped.

The Baron's face calmed but his doubt wore plainly upon his brows. "Were you not that same student that I found moping in that empty classroom that week after school term commenced?"

"Well remembered." Snape scathed, his once professional relationship with the Baron thrown to the wind in the face of his black mood.

"Then student, step back from the edge right now." The ghost ordered in a gruff subdued voice, likely the most compassionate impression the Baron could make. "I do not pretend to know your issues but I can promise you. If you step off that ledge you will not likely leave this place. You will never be free of your regrets."

"I already know death cannot cleanse my regrets." Snape grumbled, suddenly embarrassed by the need for sympathy from a ghost.

The Baron floated further out of the tower, nearly invisible in the brightness of the new day. "Good. Wisdom will serve you well. Heed it and step back."

Snape sighed as he released the railing and relented with a deliberate back step. Floating inwards, the Baron's face became visible and relief was worn plainly upon it. "A shred of courage. Good." He muttered, still awkward in his attempt. "Do not act upon a moment of madness. You are a Slytherin, not a Gryffindor. Think before you leap. Deathly regret may last an eternity."

Snape could not help his grim smile. "Perhaps some regret is well deserved."

The Baron gave him a long hard scrutinising look. "You are too young to have regrets that burn that deeply."

Scowling Snape turned away, suppressing the fury that bubbled in response. The ghost had no idea how deep this thorn struck. Gritting his teeth Snape struggled to bring his anger under control. He had been too long in this form that he was forgetting his discipline. Had he been so raw during his spy years he would not have lasted, yet why was it now so difficult? His blasted hormones likely, just as every other slip of his control could be attributed to.

He hated this age. Even solitude was a problem now, when for the past nineteen years of his life it had faded from his notice. Even when he knew the last year of his previous life it had been measurably worse, the minor solitude of his youthful present could somehow still rattle him deeply.

Rattle him enough to pry into the headmaster's affairs and run head first into a haunted out of bounds area.

Scowling still darkly, Snape trudged towards the stairs.

"Boy." The Baron called but Snape ignored him. He could not stand this stifling farce. _Have him turn me into Slughorn._ He thought darkly. Detention was just another pointless exercise to add to his pointless routine.

"STOP AND LISTEN!" The Baron appeared suddenly between him and the stairwell, his ghostly form rippling in a visage of fury. Even knowing a ghost could not physically touch him, Snape took an instinctive step backwards.

"I will not see you up here again boy! Do you hear me?" The ghost commanded.

"Rest assured, I have no desire to risk an eternity trapped in this hellish school." Snape replied scathingly.

With lips curled with distaste and another emotion Snape could not quite recognise, the Baron floated a little ways backwards into the stairwell, giving distance between the two. "If it is only the school that troubles you then time is the only solution you need. If it runs deeper than that… then find the root of it and make peace. If it is matters of the heart, some obstacle you cannot overcome… perhaps there's wisdom in… surrender." He shook his head, his great wool wig swaying from the motion.

Snape scowled half-heartedly, eyes downcast. It galled him how the ghost should so presume, it galled him more that his words struck so close to his core. But in this moment of spiralling solitude and mounting frustration, the prickly Slytherin ghost was the only one to offer support in his own gruff way.

"I have a duty to see things through. I will not rest until my role is complete." Snape muttered to the floor. "It is no longer my happiness that matters."

Silence met him and for the longest moment silence was all there was. Snape looked up, believing the Baron to have simply uprooted and left, assured his young charge would not do anything stupid or drastic. However the Baron floated still five feet away from him, watching him with an appraising frown.

"If you are able to conclude such at your age then I do not doubt the depth of your regrets." The ghost finally spoke with his deep hollow voice. "If you find the strength to see your vows through then at the end of your path, when rest finds you. Should you arrive to us once more, I shall see to it personally that you have a place amongst the ghosts of Slytherin."

* * *

Evening fell early in the Slytherin common rooms. The storm clouds that threatened the horizons that morning spilt forth, chasing the students the grounds. The Slytherin Quidditch team had attempted to brave through the weather, desperately trying to get in practice time before their first game against Gryffindor, but in the end they too had been driven back into the snake pit.

In this crowded cluster of Slytherins, caught in the awkward time between classes and dinner, Snape sat staring glumly within the circle of his gang. The arrangement had not changed much within the month that had passed. He still sat in a prominent seat, along with Avery to his left and Rosier to his right. Mulciber had a place within the circle once more because Snape had chosen to have him sit with them at the meal tables, indirectly including him back into the group. The boy had not said a word of thanks but he made no more attempts to make difficult Snape's life. As good as gratitude from a proud Slytherin.

The only real change that Snape had managed had been the addition of Lester, on a stool, seated directly behind his left shoulder.

"A mudblood, really Snape?" Travers had contended the day Snape brought the boy to the circle.

"I got bored and wanted to see if it's possible to civilise one of them." Snape had answered dismissively with a shrug. "If we must have them within our noble House, we should at least ensure they appear presentable. We can't have our reputation tarnished by the stragglers."

A cruel chuckle passed through the circle of snakes. Lester kept his eyes down and mouth shut but Snape could see his reddening ears. Travers smirked condescendingly but gave a small nod. "Point made. See to it his filthy roots do not show so clearly."

A galling position that no Slytherin could ever bend their pride enough to accept, but Snape knew that a boy who lived five years of fear and solitude would grasp any position offered, no matter how degrading, as tight as he would a lifeline. It was not perfect, but there was no perfect solutions to be had.

Still mostly ignored, Lester at least had a seat behind Snape now. He was treated as part of the furniture, but at the very least he was no longer bullied in his own dorm. So long as Snape continued to show him favour in a distant casual way, the smaller articles of the gang did not go out of their way to torment him. The other elements of Slytherin that contributed to the situation withdrew, unwilling to tangle with the Death Eaters-to-be.

In the energetic bustling common room, the Slytherin gang commandeered most of the space and sitting positions, placing them as per usual right in the centre of the room, right in the way of efficient thoroughfare. Boasting was on the agenda again, the fourth year Rufus Gibbon had jumped a fifth year Gryffindor from a family with known leanings to blood traitor politics. It was the usual laughter and pats on the back for a simple case of twisted ears that Madam Pomfrey could fix within minutes of consultation.

At this age, even the most devout pureblood supremacist hesitated to cause any serious and lasting harm, especially if they are still too young to fully understand why they are supposed to hate who they do. Approval of their peers would only serve to strengthen this behaviour, and over time they simply stop questioning it in their minds. Another round of cruel laughter rang out as the Gibbon boy mimicked the reaction of his Gryffindor victim. Snape squeezed his eyes closed, the sound of twisted laughter grating upon his skull.

The gloom of the chamber was doing poorly for Snape's patience. The windows that pressed against the belly of the Great Lake offered poor lighting at the best of times. But with the sun held hostage by the roiling clouds above, no light peeked through the layers of murky green. The lashing rain did not sound this far down beneath the castle, storms only ever brought darkness to the dungeons, never the rhythmic beat of the droplets against glass and stone.

"You okay there Snape?" Avery asked hesitantly, noticing Snape's pinched brows and clenched teeth. With a sigh Snape simply nodded, if asked again he'll simply lie and call it a headache, and not the spiralling sense of frustration he could not claw his way out of.

"Bored again?" Travers drawled with narrowed dark eyes. "You'd think after getting your arse handed to you daily by Gryffindors you might want to listen for pointers."

With a dark calm Snape replied silkily. "Remind me again about how you triumphed in your last scuffle."

Wilkes' eyes grew momentarily wide as beside him Travers' mood grew dark. The two seventh years had a bad scrape with the Prewett twins the week before, ending with a detention a piece and points docked all round.

With teeth bared Travers hissed. "At least I wasn't strung up like a turkey with my bollocks on show for the entire school!"

A streak of red hot rage sent a shudder through Snape. No matter how much time stood between him and that incident, the simple mention would invoke his hatred.

"Yet there is no doubt between you and I who would prove the most utility when the moment comes." Snape hissed, any previous notion of not rocking the boat ground beneath his sudden uncontrollable fury. "Tell me Travers? How much use do you think you'll be to the Dark Lord when you are barely scraping through Defence?"

With a growl Travers stood, towering over Snape's chair, wand grasped in his ham fist. Everyone drew back from the circle, eyes wide, the uncertainty of the politics rearing its ugly head once again. Snape did not even bother to stand, he stared up coolly, head lolled casually in his palm with fingers resting gently against his temple.

"Want to start something Travers?" A small cruel smile curled onto his lips. "By all means, show me my place, use every means you're capable of."

The taller boy did not move, his anger still plastered across his face, but he did not act. His hesitation said it all. He feared the younger boy, the young Slytherin that all knew to be a genius. This boy who had been too eager to appease, who up till this year had seemed destined to become nothing more than a useful tool.

"Is this you conceding?" Snape asked the unmoving aggressor.

It was as if his voice had broken the spell. With a snarl the seventh year swung his wand down upon the lounging upstart. Before his wand made its arc it leapt from his hand, flying across the room to strike the wall. Everyone jumped at the sudden sharp clatter and silence fell within the cramped common room.

Snape slowly stood, his own wand gripped gently in his hand, nobody had even seen him draw it. With a casual wordless flick he summoned Travers' wand to him and caught it lightly in his left. Silently he offered it back to his opponent, handle first, and without hesitation the larger boy snatched it back. Anger receded from the boy's face as worry replaced it, the dawning realisation of how badly this exchange had backfired.

Snape leaned in and whispered. "The penalty for speaking louder than your capabilities is far harsher out there." His voice just loud enough for those standing closest to hear. "Do not presume you are my superior because of your age. Life is not, first come first serve."

With that the bold upstart turned and swept out of the common room, leaving slack jaws and disbelieving stares in his wake.

* * *

A/N: Dumbledore is another character with a far more interesting history than the book adequately dealt with.

On the topic of update times, I'm afraid I cannot change things to a once-a-week basis. I churn out a chapter a week on average, but that's on a good period with no competing time-sinks in my life. Two weeks is optimal as it gives me an appropriate buffer to adjust my scheduling around.

A beta reader would help me greatly in this regard, and I welcome any interested to contact me. I will only choose two editors and ask they take extra care with my tenses. I know that is my greatest weakness.

Next Update: Friday 2nd June 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 9: A Dangerous Unity**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	9. A Dangerous Unity

**Chapter 9: A Dangerous Unity**

October was a wonderful month. Summer had passed in its entirety, taking with it the beautiful long days and sunny warmth. September was the month of autumn that still remembered the summer, but October was the month that swept together the remains of that season and made something magical of it. Orange brushed the tree scapes, not yet completely washed of their green. One last tribute to the colours of life before November winds arrive to strip the branches bare to prepare the land for the great bleach that winter brought.

Within the castle the season's change paired with a mood of bustling excitement. With the lowering of heat activity rose, especially amongst the Gryffindors. The Quidditch teams practiced with an additional layer of added fervour as the first match of the season was drawing ever closer with the passing of the month. As such the presence of Marlene and half the Marauders became increasingly scarce in the common rooms, and occasionally in the classrooms.

However to the rest of the school, Quidditch was still not the event in the forefront. Weeks away was to most still an indistinct spot in the future, and between that time and now stood the grand finale of the month. Hallowe'en.

Every year the feast of the Hallowed Eve would crown itself the most anticipated event of the year. This was the first feast of the year that did not accompany a certain level of return-to-school and post-sorting anxiety, and unlike Christmas all were available to attend. All round it was a damned good time and as it were the only people who looked upon it with dread was grouchy Filch, griping over the increased activity in the hallways, and the good prefects in charge of the preparations.

Lily led the pumpkin carving team, her table worked with ability and efficiency, and aside from a few first years, autonomously. When not assisting them, Lily spent her time carving pumpkins with a simple tap of her wand and expert efficiency. With a quick flick she would send it to her left where Remus and a Hufflepuff volunteer stood ready to secure a lit candle and levitated it into the air. The Great Hall was a bustle with prefects and their helpers, throwing together the Halloween decorations for the evening feast. They only ever had five hours on the day to complete this task, spanning the hours between when lunch ended and when the event dinner was to begin.

Having volunteered for these tasks since first year, Lily watched successive pairs of Head Girls and Head Boys stress themselves to the bone over this day. They took turns in their breaks visiting each station, comparing each stage of work to a meticulously planned roster of tasks and timetables. The pumpkin carvers were possibly the only group ahead of schedule, and though Lily didn't like to toot her own horn she knew a large part of that came down to the experience she gained through yearly practice.

This was why it was so important to encourage participation within the first years, heavens forbid what a shock the duty would be to a prefect fresh into their first Hallowe'en prep, as she could see from the rivets of sweat that seeped from the regrown hairline of Regulus Black. He had been part of the team setting up decorative singing skulls around the great tables, and beside him a seventh year Hufflepuff prefect tore her hair in frustration at how slowly the Slytherin boy was moving.

By comparison the atmosphere at the pumpkin carving table was positively jolly. In fact the two Gryffindor prefects even found the time to chat, a far cry from the storm of anxiety at the next table over.

"James isn't a bad guy." Remus insisted earnestly for the third time this week. "If you just sit down with him you'll see it too."

Lily rolled her eyes. "I doubt I could make him sit long enough to have a conversation."

Ever since their little spat in front of the Fat Lady's corridor, Lily had been treating James with a cold and distant touch. It wasn't so much that James had once again indulged in a childish act of acting out against Snape, but that he should so presume to do so out of some misjudged nobility on Lily's behalf. The first two weeks flew by with both mutually soured by the encounter, but as was expected James mellowed first. And with his attempts to make amends his friends flocked to his assistance.

Remus, perhaps was in the best position to put in a good word for his forlorn friend, and Lily could honestly see him trying. "He just… has your best interest in heart, Lily. Honestly."

Lily sighed. "As much as I'm sure he believes that's the case he needs to realise he can't act with such impunity. He's not always right, his actions certainly isn't, and he needs to stop treating people like how he thinks they deserve to be treated."

Appearing to almost physically droop, Remus conceded with a sigh. "You're right." With a flick of his wand he sent up another pumpkin, then slowly shook his head. "James' just… a bit of a bonehead. He doesn't know how to see things from another's perspective."

"I don't suppose you could make it easier for him by laying it out for him?" Lily asked casually, knocking the jagged smile into the scooped pumpkin that passed to her from her right.

"Ha no." Remus gave a nervous smile. "Please don't tell him I called him a bonehead to your face."

Lily rolled her eyes again. "You know Remus, one of these days you have to get that tail from between your legs and tell your friends what you really think. I mean what kind of friends are they if they push you around?"

Conversation lulled for a moment and Lily shot a sideways glance to her friend. Remus didn't wear his expression outwardly but she could tell with one glance that he was suddenly uncomfortable. She mentally kicked herself, she had accidentally touched upon his Lycanthropy with her thoughtless turn of phrase. She couldn't even apologise for it because she wasn't supposed to know.

Lily had thought many times before to reveal to Remus her knowledge and acceptance of the matter, but each time she had been stopped by the niggling notion that perhaps it was presumptive of her to do so. Remus would tell her if he had ever wished for her to know, and it wasn't something for her to confront him about.

"That's the final pumpkin." The scooper by Lily's right told her as she was handed the hollowed fruit. With a quick tap she passed the vessel onwards, and leaned back with relief, finally unburdened by the day's duties.

"It's a while before dinner." Lily said with a gentle smile to her fellow prefect and friend, attempting to sweep away any anxiety she might have invoked with her thoughtless words. "What do you say we hang out until then?"

The skinny straw haired boy turned to her with a pinched smile and a quick nod. Lily beamed and took his hand, pulling him to his feet, more than ready to stretch her legs after the past week and a half of bundled tension.

"Whoa where do you two think you're going?" Lily winced as the Ravenclaw Head Girl, Angelica Tills, swooped on them. "If you're done help Mr Proud with the enchantments." She gestured to the sixth year Hufflepuff boy chasing Black the younger about the table, fixing his ill-fixed skulls.

The front doors suddenly burst forth as Rubeus Hagrid squeezed in, over his shoulder hung a large wriggling sack. "Brought th' bats." He announced loudly, beaming through his shaggy beard. "Fresh from Transfiguration they are." And without further ado he set about untying the sack.

"Don't release them yet!" Angelica screeched but it was too late, the black flapping mammals burst forth and rose towards the rooftops, knocking pumpkins in all direction. Lily waved her wand to save a few from hitting the wall but unfortunately the damage was already done.

Angelica's mouth hung agape, watching hours of work unravel as fine pumpkin bits showered them. Lily sighed as she brought down the few pumpkins that were salvageable. "It's fine. I can fix it." She quickly told the Head Girl, who looked very much moments away from breaking down into sobs of frustration.

Hagrid ducked with a sheepish grimace on his face, sneaking out as quietly as his hefty bulk could allow.

* * *

"I am so glad that's over!" Lily exclaimed as she sank back against the stone wall. Lupin sank down beside her on the bench that edged around the circular wall. They took shelter in an alcove on the first floor corridor, Lily's favourite hideout spot, behind a trick wall for extra cosiness and privacy.

They had only just managed to fix things to an acceptable state in the great Hall, finishing just after all the other teams had completed their tasks, and leaving only when Angelica stopped sobbing.

Lupin gave a content sigh and closed his eyes, Lily turned a worried eye on him. The full moon was coming within a week and the effects were already showing. She didn't know what other physiological changes occurred to poor boy besides the transformation but he always began to visibly fatigue in the days preceding.

"How are you feeling Remus?" Lily asked quietly, worried the volume of her voice might disturb him unduly."

"Oh I'm feeling just peachy." He answered politely with a tired smile. "Thank you for your concern."

Lily shot him a worried grimace. "Get better soon alright?" She already knew it would get worse before it got better. She wished he would simply come clean to her about this so she wouldn't need to tiptoe around this topic every month. But in the end it was about Remus, not her, and if he did not wish to tell her, all she could do was stay by his side and support him silently.

A stray thought lead Lily to briefly wonder about whether James knew of his friend's condition, he wasn't exactly the most observant guy but he had his moments. Being good friends with a werewolf for five whole years, surely…

Lily mentally rolled her eyes. Even if Remus wanted to tell, as if that arrogant boy would let him get even a word in edgeways.

"He's not so bad you know." Remus mumbled, almost as if in response to her thoughts.

"Hmm?" She prompted, content to not be combative with her ailing friend.

Remus turned, a gentle pale smile on his prematurely lined face. "James. He's a really great guy when you get to know him. A good friend… A good man. Give him a chance. Who knows?"

"Sure… It's possible." Lily conceded to Remus' blink of surprise. "But I don't feel like competing for attention with his reflection in the mirror." That elicited an involuntary chuckle from the sandy haired boy, an almost guilty grimace twisted across his smile. Lily gave him a small pat. "At least you tried."

Remus appeared to struggle with himself for a moment before looking away, a resigned frown on his face. "I just… wish you'd just give him a chance… to just talk. Just sit with him and hear what he has to say. Maybe one day you'll be able to see what I see in him, what we all see in him. That quality that James Potter has. The great man that he is."

A smile touched Lily's lips. "I know for sure he must be quite something to inspire such loyalty from his friends." Remus smiled back, his eyes taking on a tired glaze once again. "And I see his qualities. I really do." Lily continued, listing them all off in her mind but refusing to give voice to any of them. Especially not the one about how handsome he was, she would never live down the mortification. "But… I just can't get over the fact that he's disruptive, he's egotistical to an _**obscene**_ degree, and worst of all he's a bully."

Lupin sighed, rolling his head side to side as it rested against the wall in a mimicry of a headshake. "I cannot argue with you there."

"Besides I don't think I could ever get in between you four." Lily conceded with a gentle smile, leaning her head against the stonework as well and meeting the boy's tired eyes. "I know at the very least Black hates me, I'd cause so much friction."

"Sirius wants what James wants. He'll get over it." Remus replied.

Lily rolled her eyes. "Megalomaniac." She muttered to which Remus conceded a small tired smile.

They sat for a few minutes in a companionable silence, the ill boy lulled against the little corner niche and appeared to drop off. Lily sighed, observing the time, knowing no matter how much Remus looked like he needed a rest she would have to disturb him for the festivities.

"Hey. Remus." Lily invoked in a quiet voice, waking him from his light doze. "Sorry but it's time to go." She stood and extended a hand, to which the sickly boy took gratefully and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. Standing he appeared to be far more alert to the great relief of his fellow prefect and friend.

Slowly they strolled down the hallways, listening to the rising clatter of footsteps as they neared the Grand Staircase. Lily shot her friend a glance, making sure he was keeping well at their pace. It appeared she needn't have worried as he grinned back, as bright and daisy as ever.

As they descended the stairs a sudden shouting and a clattering scuffle greeted their ears from the direction of the Entrance Hall. The two prefects exchanged a momentary glance before both setting off in a dash for the bottom of the staircase, parting the other students before them.

As they pushed their way through the crowd stopped up on the Entrance Hall flight, Lily froze in her step. Remus stopped too, having spotted what she saw and glanced quickly back at her, worry etched into his brow. For down in the Entrance Hall, wand drawn, fury etched into his face was Severus Snape.

* * *

Students parted before him, fear and confusion swirling about the rippling crowd. Snape raised his wand, pointed dominantly at two wide eyed Gryffindor boys, no older than fourth year. These fools had presumed to sneak down into the dungeon and attack one of his first years. He had caught them in the act of trapping the boy in a classroom, filling it with conjured rats and laughing cruelly as the boy screamed in horror.

Already set in a foul mood by the crowds and activity, and haunted by the heavy brooding that accompanied every hallowed eve, Snape acted quickly and violently. Without so much as announcing himself, Snape blasted the two Gryffindors away from the door and released the trapped boy within, dispelling the scurrying rodents from the torrent that spilt forth.

Turning his wand and his fury upon the two intruders he drove them before him, forcing them to scarper quickly down the narrow halls of the Dungeon and through the travelling Slytherin crowd, ejecting them into the Entrance Hall. The little first year Slytherin followed him, delighted at the sight of justice being wrought. With a meek but grateful look his eye, the boy he glanced up at the older student who stepped forward to champion him.

The two Gryffindors stood before him now, belligerence replaced fear on their face now they were out from Slytherin territory. The crowds that swarmed the Entrance Hall in anticipation for the Hallowe'en feast, parted before the scene. Reds, blues and yellows shone from the crowds, this was no longer a situation where he could expect no intervention should he choose to discipline those Gryffindor boys.

However, as reprehensible as their intentions had been, they were not the focus of his ire. Instead Snape turned on his heel and marched straight to the gathering crowd of Slytherin, their eager sneers wiped away in the face of Snape's looming rage.

"Are you not a prefect?" Snape growled up towards a wide eyed Rosier. "Why then did you not respond to the calls for help?"

A nervous look touched the tall boy's eye. "What's gotten into you Snape?" He beseeched with a half-hearted attempt at his cocky self-assured grin.

"Do you not think it's your responsibility to step in to protect the younger Slytherin?" He turned his eyes to Regulus Black, who stared back almost expressionless.

A line formed in the severity of Snape's brows, darkening his already black eyes, his teeth bared in a maddened scowl. He knew his emotions were ruling him and he allowed them to. These youths, they did not respond to reason, what use was calm collection?

"We are the pariah house!" He roared into the gathered Slytherins. "There is nobody to look out for us if we do not look out for ourselves. We cannot afford to ignore each other's cries for help!"

To their credit, both Rosier and Black cast their eyes down in a semblance of chastisement. Around them Slytherins took note, and a hint of humbling rippled through the crowed. Surrounded by the eyes of the other Houses, surrounded by whispers of those ignorant fear mongerers, the House of Slytherin stood silent as one of their own berated them for apathy.

Snape turned his furious eyes upon the Gryffindor boys before him, stumbling them back with the force of his glare, the confusion on their faces replaced with surprise and a hint of fear. That they should so presume to invade Slytherin territory, attack one of their most vulnerable. A first year. A child who had not yet found their place within their own House, much less the school. A child who was vulnerable to the influences of the world, vulnerable to the darkness within their House.

 _Protect the students._

That had been Dumbledore's final request, a duty to which Snape committed fully, that he had seen to the best of his ability. Failure had been his result. Failure like all things in that life he led. A life that had been a mockery of itself.

On this night, the night of the Hallowed Eve, the night when his sins danced like prickles upon his skin, his every failure mocking him from every corner of his thoughts. This was when the weight of his duties became the anchor to which he clutched.

He turned slowly to the silent Slytherins, their eyes boring into him in an almost tangible way. "I lay the decree tonight. None should harm another of their House. None ignores another's cries for help." He turned, directing his last to the suddenly silent crowd. The fearful Hufflepuffs and the confused Ravenclaws, the proud and arrogant Gryffindors.

"Slytherin stands together despite you all!" He roared, and as his deep echoing voice faded, silence greeted him back.

He felt it then, the staring of hundreds of judging eyes. The fear and anger that buzzed within the crowds. That derisive laugh of disbelief he knew that would drive his House together more surely than any command ever could.

The tension left Snape when beside him the fourth year Slytherins moved to make room for the first years to step between them, an almost protective air about the action. Snape smirked towards the crowds of outsiders that surrounded them, knowing they would find a far harder target in a united House.

But then his attention turned upwards to the Flight between the Entrance Hall and the Grand Staircase, his eyes finding hers. Those large green eyes, filled with a fear that struck him to his core and invoked a flash of hot white guilt he had not been prepared for.

Suddenly unable to face a night of feasting and joviality Snape turned on his heels and stalked back down the hallways to the dungeons. The crowds of the younger Slytherins parted before him, watching him with a sense of awe, and from those that had been outcasts, a sense of hope.

* * *

Surrounded by confusion and anger, Lily stared with disbelief down onto the Entrance Hall. He had stood there, too skinny and dressed poorly, yet standing tall and proud as he addressed those hostile eyes that stared out at him. "Slytherin stands together despite you all!"

Lily felt her heart race as a bubble of fear touched her throat. Those cruel snakes that attacked others out of their misplaced superiority. Those who would stamp down people like her just for their parentage and ancestry.

Should they suddenly sport a collegial mindset…

That scene played out in her head once again, where she had challenged Mulciber for his bullying of a young Hufflepuff. She had no illusions about how differently would things have worked out had those Slytherins at his back raised their wands against her.

A united Slytherin would be to the detriment of all, and Lily could not help the panicked rush of fear, the fear she was sure Snape had seen when his eyes suddenly met hers. It was as if his fierceness melted away as a small ripple played across his face, a shadow that hinted of regrets and disturbed thoughts. For a brief fanciful moment Lily had hoped he'd recant his orders for her, on behalf of the friendship they once had. But those hopes were dashed when he suddenly turned away and swept back down the corridor from which he came.

Jeers erupted from the crowds, unkind chatter filled the air as the Slytherins appeared to bunch together in the face of such hostility. Rosier, who had been staring after the retreating back of Snape, turned. Apparently incensed by the words thrown at him, he began conducting his housemates into the Hall with no polite distance or hierarchical concerns in their procession. To Lily's increasingly worried mind, this was the most unified she had ever seen this house.

All because Snape had ordered them to band together?

"When did they start listening to him?" She muttered in disbelief.

Remus turned and regarded her with a worried look. "I heard tell that there had been a power shift amongst the… unsavoury Slytherins."

"They're all unsavoury Moony." Lily whipped around and met the dark scowl of Sirius Black. Beside him James stood oddly silent, watching the procession of green. Peter had turned an odd shade of green-tinged pale and attempted to mimic the first year Slytherins by standing between his two larger friends.

As the Slytherins disappeared into the hall the volume of the crowd died down, their jeering fading into fearful mutterings of uncertainty. James finally spoke then, in a strangely subdued voice. "They're recruiting aggressively." The conviction of his tone made Lily look at him sharply.

"You don't know that's what he's doing." She insisted, an almost desperate edge to her voice. Trying to convince herself more than anything else.

"Then were you even seeing what the rest of us were seeing?!" Black growled as he swept his hand in an aching gesture to the slowly emptying Entrance Hall.

"I didn't see him handing out flyers!"

"No he just gave an order and they all clicked! He subsumed them in an instant!"

Lily shook her head, more in disbelief than anything. "I… still can't-"

"Lily." A hand fell onto her shoulder. She raised her eyes to the concerned ones of James Potter. "Wake up. There is no illusion to where the loyalties of his little gang lies. There is no illusion to where he is going."

Reality. Cruel and sharp it struck her. "I know…" She muttered miserably.

Suddenly, the uncertainty in those hazel eyes lifted. "Leave it to me." He said with a smug smile, and Lily felt her stomach clench at the implication.

"Oh? I know that look Prongs." A devilish grin stretched across Black's handsome face. "C'mon. Spill."

But James shook his head. "All in good time my dear Padfoot."

They were planning something. Something bad. Something that no doubt entailed disrupting that Slytherin unity.

Something that would involve Snape…

Lily bit her lip. Her protest on the tip of her tongue. Every fibre of moral decency rebelling at the idea of allowing such a thing, dredging up every terrible memory of every terrible clash.

But… this Slytherin problem was more than what had been between her and Sev. He was part of that problem now. He was to become a man who would attack people like her, just for being born a different background. And with his newfound power he now set about luring others into that evil path.

A muggle Idiom once said, 'cut off the head of a snake and its body will die.' Snape was the head now.

"Surely there's another way." Lily beseeched, a little desperately. She did not wish him harm, no matter what chasm lay between them.

"If you have an idea please. I'm all ears."

Lily grit her teeth and looked away.

James regarded her with a sigh and relented a smile. "Alright. I'll promise at the very least I won't hurt him badly. For you Lily."

* * *

Snape laid on his bed on top of the covers, curled up against the hollow pit of his stomach. As a professor he had missed the odd meal but never had the clawing hunger been so consuming. Another weakness of his younger years, youth could not be over soon enough.

Still he did not regret missing out on the Halloween feast. That evening meal was dedicated to sweets, not his favourite category of food. If only that was the only issue he took with the night.

He turned in his bed, feeling his heart clench alongside his stomach. This was a night he wished for nothing more than to spend alone. Alone to mourn, for something he had no right to mourn.

After all it had been his fault.

He curled up slowly, hugging his head, willing the terrible swirling thoughts to stop. The guilt he felt for his part in her death had never let up, even after all the years that passed. It twisted him inside, embittering him to the world, a truth he could never escape. Something he could not escape the reminder of every year on the night of the Hallowed Eve.

A reminder made all the worse with the punishment 'gifted' by the Dark Lord.

He clenched his claw like fingers into fists, squeezing his eyes shut, trying to dispel the terrible image of her death from his mind. To no avail. The memory was branded into his mind, as real as any trauma he had suffered in that pathetic pit of misery he called a life. It would forever linger, like the most insidious of curses. A most fitting punishment for his crime. In the silence of his present solitude, all he could hear this night was her begging screams.

In the past he had imagined what her final moments might have been like. A perverse exercise in self-castigation. Yet, he took minor comfort in the idea that his imagination was likely far worse than what had actually transpired. And it had been true in part, it was far less bloody than imagined. Far quicker…

But in his mind, she had always faced death standing proud and strong, like the Gryffindor she was.

The memory shattered any comfort he built for himself. She had died, crying and scared, begging for the life of her son. Begging in futility. She had left the world without ever knowing her actions had saved her son that night. Died believing she had left her defenceless child to the absent mercies of a madman.

Snape's breath hitched with suppressed sobs.

 _My fault._

He had been the reason the Dark Lord learnt of the prophecy. The reason he had made Harry Potter his target.

The reason she had died, trying to protect him.

He had often thought, had he another chance to remake his decisions, he'd sooner strangle his idiot younger self than allow her to suffer that again. A product of fanciful remorse. A piece of foolish determination found only after the fact.

Which is why he could not waste this chance.

With a deliberate exhale, Snape steadied himself. Slowly his body relaxed as he grasped onto the one fact that clawed into the forefront of his mind.

 _She is alive._

Despite all rational belief and reasonable hope he had been given another chance. A chance to choose anew, to not simply atone for his actions, but reforge them. If he could save her this time, if his actions meant that she could live a long and prosperous life.

Then he would suffer anything.

He clutched her memory tightly, willing the dark ones away. Yet again she would have to be his purpose, his strength, her memory would light his way in his darkness. Even if she never turned his way again.

His breathing calmed to a slow even draw. The hollow gnawing pain of his stomach provided shelter for his soul. Suffering was the only atonement he knew.

The silence of the room was intruded upon by the gentle click of an opening door.

Snape's eyes flickered open, his breathing ceased as he sat up, alert and listening. Nobody should have been back yet, the feast was not even half-over. With struggling effort he pressed down his mourning thoughts. This night of all nights he longed desperately for the privacy of his professorial quarters.

Slowly he lifted the edge of his curtain, peeping from the gap created in the middle of his four-poster bed. From across the way, standing by the furnace, staring straight at him was Sebastian Urquart, the true loner of Slytherin. Outlined by the fire Snape could not see the boy's eyes, but he was left with no doubt it was fixed on his.

With a flick of his wand Snape parted the posters. He pulled himself upright with a casual swivel, his young body responding without protest despite the undue stress he stubbornly placed it under. There he sat silently, meeting those challenging shadowed eyes. No surprise touched the boy's face, leading Snape to know for a certainty that the purpose for Urquart's early retirement from the feast had been to seek him out.

The seconds rolled by, with neither speaking a word. No thoughts seeped upon the surface of the boy's mind, leaving Snape with the impression that this boy, if not formally trained in Occlumency at the very least had impressive mental discipline.

Sebastian Urquart, the son of a man unknown to Snape, but his uncle was a well-known figure. Elphinstone Urquart, a Senior Administrator within the Department of Law Enforcement, and a man who had risen through the ranks not through the Auror path, but rather through the far more difficult route of progress with the Wizengamot Administration Services.

With a blink the boy's stare finally faltered, preparing Snape for the words that followed. "I don't know what to make of you."

It struck Snape quite suddenly that he didn't even know what Urquart's voice sounded like. The boy had never spoke to anyone in the Common Room or Dormitory, and Snape had not been paying much attention in class. Perhaps not a commanding voice but it bespoke the intent to not be taken lightly. It was not deep, but nor was it pitched awkwardly high. A comfortable tenor tone that should not have been unusual, but somehow from the severe looking fair haired boy with deep-set brown eyes, it sat at odds.

With a flick of his wand Snape enveloped the room with silencing wards. If they are to exchange words it shall not reach the ears of an eavesdropper. "If you have questions by all means ask." _My question is will you be an ally?_

"Alright then." Urquart paced forward from the furnace to stand directly before Snape. The young professor suppressed the urge to stand himself up, partially because he did not wish to come off as threatening, partly because he did not wish to remind the boy just how much smaller he was. "Why?"

Snape raised a thin black brow. "Elaborate."

The boy complied. "Why did you make your display today? What is your purpose?"

"You do not believe I truly wished to protect the stragglers of our House?" Snape asked with a small smirk.

"No." Urquart's tenor voice replied, his eyes narrowed in suspicion. An outcast by choice he might be but as cunning and shrewd as any Slytherin the older man had ever met.

"You believe me evil?" Snape stated more than asked.

"I know you're evil." Was the smooth, expected reply.

In silence once more Snape brought his fingers together and rested his chin against them. In his mind he turned over the replies available to him, and the benefits and the dangers of revealing his position. The best result would be to gain a useful ally, provided he judged the boy correctly. But if he was wrong he risked losing all that he's gained with what he was attempting to do.

The best move therefore would be to take the risk, without taking too much of a risk.

"Do you believe yourself superior to us Urquart?" Snape asked in his silky tone, provoking a narrowing of those sunken brown eyes. "While you parade about aloof, secure in your family dynasty some of us had to struggle to find a foothold."

"I see no struggling within your blessed group Snape." Urquart responded, his tone impressively withholding the anger that was burning in those eyes.

"Then perhaps you should look harder." Snape growled. "Have you not seen what became of Mulciber when his position shook from beneath him?"

"And I'm sure you're all broken up about that." Urquart replied, expressing an impressive amount of sarcasm in his light wispy voice.

"Will you believe me if I told you I wished no ill to have befallen Mulciber?"

"No."

"Then here in lies the problem." Snape stated with a ghost of a sigh. "Altruism is looked upon within our house with such a cynical eye. Would that I try-"

"What, do you take me for a fool?" Urquart snapped. Snape fell silent, watching the boy struggle, watching the words pry itself from his clever, but still inexperienced mind. "Anybody with half a brain could see where you and your lot are headed! Altruism and butchery do not run the same course!"

With almost a smile Snape pressed. "Are you accusing me of something?"

"You know damned well I'm accusing you, you bloody Death Eater!"

Tone, context, emotions, and phrasing. Unless Urquart was as excellent an actor as the well-worn spy Snape was convinced the boy meant what he said. This was the smallest window of risk he could make for himself.

"I will not become a Death Eater."

For a heartbeat the boy said nothing, but slowly his disbelief turned to confusion on his face. Likely within that calculating mind he had reached the only conclusion that he could have, that he could not see the purpose of such a lie.

Finally the words came to him. "What?"

"I will not be a Death Eater." Snape repeated.

Slowly the confused boy took on a more determined expression. "Why?"

Snape raised his thin dark eyebrow once again. "Elaborate."

"If you truly mean what you say, why are you with them? Surely you know…?"

"It is because, I did not wish to be alone." His answer touched too close to the truth. A shadow of discomfort fell upon the Professor's heart, something he did not allow to show upon his face.

Urquart fell silent once again, his frowning face took on an openly curious tone. Snape pressed on, cautious back and forth was no longer what the situation called for. "Isolation is the most dangerous factor for a child's fall to dark ideologies do you not think? Not many our age could choose ostracisation like you did Urquart."

The boy leant in, an almost urgent tone to his light voice. "Are you telling me that's what you're trying to do? Fight the influence of darkness within Slytherin by reaching out to the isolated and vulnerable?"

"You summarised that succinctly." Snape said with a nod.

"Then I want you to know that I think that's a terrible idea!" Urquart snapped.

Snape almost smiled. "I take it my speech was received well."

"You have every outcast at the table from one end to the other, beating their hopeful lashes at your damnable lackeys. You know. The ones that actually _**are**_ evil!"

"So had I actually been recruiting for the darkness I've been resoundingly successful?"

"Yes. You-" Urquart fell silent, flushing with apparent anger.

Snape finally relented a tired contentment. Not quite a smile but the closest he was able. "Be at ease. I was not lying when I told you I have no intention to walk the path of darkness."

Still hesitant to relax Urquart muttered under his breath. Whether by intention or not, his high voice carried. "…then you've sold them to the enemy."

A small smirk played around Snape's lips. "Inspiration is a powerful force would you not say Urquart?"

"If you inspired them in the right direction." The boy muttered darkly.

"Had I been sitting at the table their eyes would have been on me."

The boy fell silent again, sunken eyes opening wide in realisation. "Wait. Are you going to…?"

The smirk receded from Snape's face as he met the boy's eyes. He spoke not of his intentions, but he did not need to. The excited, almost gleeful gleam that shone uninhibited from the boy's eyes told Snape that he understood.

Urquart stepped forward, hand outstretched. "When the time comes you can count on my support."

* * *

A/N: For those die-hard Pottermore fans out there, the surname Urquart should ring some bells. Another one of those fascinating storylines that never made it to book.

Next Update: Friday 16th June 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 10: To Decapitate a Snake**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	10. To Decapitate a Snake

**Chapter 10: To Decapitate a Snake**

"Your Slytherins have been making quite the stand for themselves haven't they? All this talk of House-unity. Why it brings a tear to my old Gryffindor eyes."

Snape raised a thin eyebrow as he looked up from the swirling bowl of silver to meet the eyes of a smiling Dumbledore. "Do not insult me by comparing Slytherins to Gryffindors."

The old headmaster huffed lightly. "Why heavens no. Gryffindors have never been so cohesive. If anything the harmonious House had always been the trait of Hufflepuffs."

Snape scowled, taking that comment rightfully as an insult.

"Still…" A frown touched the headmaster's bushy brows. "I cannot help but worry."

"Slytherin has always been a House that stood apart from the others." Snape grumbled, hoping the old man would drop the issue.

Dumbledore regarded him, blue eyes peering piercingly over his half-moon glasses. "Until recently, Slytherin had also been a House that stood apart from itself."

Snape scowled and did not reply. The fear of being made to hand over once more the little niche of comfort he had made for himself. To his immense relief, the headmaster finally turned his attention back to his Pensieve.

Their Thursday sessions had taken a far more relaxed tone. Dumbledore had long since finished with his memories of the second war, ending with the final moments of Snape's life. The younger man wondered if the headmaster was affected, staring into the eyes of that seventeen year old boy who was destined to die at the man's own askance.

Perhaps that assessment was unfair. This Dumbledore at the very least had not yet laid those orders, the guilt should not yet be his to bear. Why should he, for actions he had not yet committed?

It was exactly the opposite situation to Snape's own.

The once-Professor stared distantly into the bowl of silver the headmaster had poured over. The image of the silver hand floated to the surface, something Snape recalled seeing fixed upon an older and dishevelled Peter Pettigrew. These objects had become Dumbledore's new focus, extracting knowledge and spells that do not yet exist in this time.

They had been conducting this exercise since the week before, and as the old headmaster had pointed out cheerfully, "It really is convenient that you had been a man of the scholarly persuasion." Indeed, as a professor, Snape had exposure to all manner of spells that would come though the various faculties of this school. That had been the original intent of the exercise, to go through the yet-uninvented spells that Snape had seen and slowly dissect their mechanisms between their two genius-levelled spell-crafting minds. However towards the end of their last session they had hit a snag, by which the Headmaster had found himself unwilling to move on from.

Dumbledore had been fixated upon the complex spells Snape had come about during the dark times of his life. The magical substitute hand the pathetic Pettigrew had sported, as well as the gift of unaided flight. Two spells that did not exist in this time, or indeed in his last life either, for they were spells created by the Dark Lord. Sharing for the betterment of the world was not a point upon his manifesto.

Snape had been personally the gifted the power of unaided flight, but as with all spells the Dark Lord created it was not without a catch. The problem with this spell was though Snape could cast it with relatively little effort, he did not understand its mechanisms. There was no words of incantation, nor complex channelling, or spell juggling. It was a simple application of spell power and intent. It was as if the Dark Lord had laid an enchantment upon him like he would an object. Afterwards, the power had appeared to him suddenly as if it had always come naturally.

This was what was consistent between the known spells the Dark Lord's creation. They had been crafted in a form that made it impossible to learn without his consent, and once learnt it was made impossible to pass on to another. These two miraculous examples of that madman's great power, two spells that could have shaped the world immeasurably, kept out of the world's reach through a complex spell weaving that even Snape could not truly understand.

"Are you able to still fly?" Dumbledore had asked him the week before, and without knowing whether it would work Snape had stood and channelled. He had not yet had cause or privacy to work through the extent of his abilities, but without practice he instinctively knew it would still come to him. The magic responded as if no time or change touched its course, and without any difficulty he lifted from the ground to the delight of the headmaster.

"It's like an enchantment you say?" The headmaster inquired as he watched his younger counterpart float back into his seat.

With a grimace Snape had shook his head. "I cannot say for certain."

And it was with that uncertain direction those two spells had become the priority of Dumbledore's curiosity, the other spells they had planned to explore lay untouched within Snape's mind. The younger man tried not to sigh as he wondered what use was his presence today. Apart from some simple exchanges of current affairs, most of today's session had been spent with Dumbledore's head in the bowl.

It was another ten minutes before the headmaster finally came up for breath again, no closer to solving either of his puzzles by the furrow between his bushy brows.

"I have Transfigurations tomorrow you know." Snape muttered scathingly.

Dumbledore blinked and met his eyes with an expression of muted amusement. "My apologies Severus. I do find myself carried away sometimes." Almost reluctantly, he gathered up the memories in the bowl and bottled them up. "Unless you have any more to add, I do believe this might be a query best left for my private pursuits."

"Nothing to add." Snape replied dryly. He's long since given up on untangling the maddened webs of the Dark Lord's brilliant mind. It had once been one of his personal pursuits to understand the power of flight he had been gifted, but as brilliant as his own mind had been it proved to be a fruitless endeavour. Without even an incantation he could not begin to understand how the basics of the spell worked.

"Hmm. Shame." With a flourishing gesture of his unwanded hand, Dumbledore sent the vial of memories into its storage. "Well, as you say, you have classes to attend tomorrow and we have already burnt much of our evening fuel. What say we find one last article to muse upon?"

Snape leant forward ready to oblige, ready to do something, anything to dull the boredom of inactivity. He felt the probing approach of Dumbledore's Legilimency, and with some effort he parted the veil of his own mind, allowing the headmaster in. No spell knowledge pushed into the forefront of his mind this time, instead a list of potioneering developments rolled by. Knowledge he had known intimately, and partially pioneered.

But slowly as the potions ticked by, the browsing stopped, focusing on one brew in particular.

"You have a masterfully complete knowledge of this potion despite its complexity." Dumbledore complimented. Snape was not fooled by a second by that mask of flattery.

"I know what you wish to ask but my answer is no. I will not brew it for that werewolf." With a forceful pull of his mind, Snape closed the Wolfsbane potion away.

A frown touched Dumbledore's bushy brows. "But Severus, if it is able to do what your memory tells me it does it would improve the boy's life immeasurably."

"Then mores the pity for him that he's a blasted Marauder."

The furrow softened upon the old man's brows. "You would have him suffer for the wrongs of his friends?"

"I would. And more." Silence fell between them. Snape scowled, feeling judging eyes fall upon him from a man whose judgement he refused to bear.

"Severus." Dumbledore tried again, this time voice gentle and coaxing. "I do not pretend to understand the depth of your animosity. But if you do this you would be helping more than just Lupin."

"Good thing Damocles Belby is working on it as we speak. He is the true inventor of this potion and I will not be stealing credit from the man."

Dumbledore nodded once in agreement. "I admire your noble refusal to claim credit for other people's work, however perhaps such measures are unwarranted. I have the personal pleasure of knowing Damocles and happen to know that he would have developed the potion for personal reasons, not for personal gain. He would be the first to agree with me when I say the benefits of the potion's early emergence into the world outweigh the benefits of one man's claim to fame."

Snape unkindly sneered. " _For the greater good_?"

The silence that fell between them was sudden and heavy. No outward darkening of expression touched Dumbledore's calm aspect but Snape could sense the old man's immediate change of mood. This was the first time speaking with this new Dumbledore that Snape had felt he might have overstepped his bounds.

The silence eventually parted. "Have you seen them then? My memories?"

Snape dipped his head in acknowledgement, unwilling to meet the headmaster's eyes. "Yes." With a quick glimpse up he saw the weariness upon Dumbledore's wizened face.

"Then you must have many questions."

Many questions, many judgemental thoughts, many bleak conclusions. But none of them would pass his lips. "Your past is your business. Who am I to judge?"

A small smile touched the headmaster's lips but the weariness never left his face. "You know Severus, I have been thinking on that matter. What possessed me to give you those memories?"

A grimace touched the younger man's lips. "If you cannot understand your own mind what hope is there for us mere mortals?"

After another spell of silence Dumbledore, waved his hand and summoned a vial of memories from storage, this one stored in a decoratively gilded bottle. "Memories from myself. Part of the collection you gifted me upon our first encounter." Slowly he emptied the Pensieve, sending those memories away in a plain glass vial as he set about pouring out the crystal bottle with a gentle tap.

Memories sprung forth upon the surface, memories Snape knew like the wounds carved upon his very soul. His own haunted face stared up at him, howling in fury and misery. In his mind he heard the words as if spoken aloud by that silent memory.

" _I though… you were going… to keep her… safe…"_

Snape flinched. "What is this?" He snarled.

"As I said, my memories." The weariness disappeared from Dumbledore's face, replaced by an almost calm. "Memories I had given to myself in regards to you. Memories I imagine, that were designed to make me trust you."

"Well did it work?" Snape hissed, his every fibre of being rebelling of the sight of facing his own raw grief. "Do you trust me?"

Dumbledore peered at him over his half-moon glasses. "Well, ask yourself. Do you trust me?"

Snape frowned. Albus Dumbledore was his one and only ally in this life. If he could not trust the great wizard, then who else did he have? But even as he thought that, his memories rebelled, reminding him of how his trust was most cruelly exploited once before. Memories of a vow to protect a boy left behind by his own foolish actions, a vow that was cruelly twisted into a blade against the enemy. A vow left broken, for the greater good.

Had the purpose of those memories been to convince Snape empathetically that this was a man he could place his trust in once again, then it had failed. But it had not been trust that drove the twice-burned spy back to Dumbledore's side. It had been duty. Not to the headmaster, but to his vow.

"Understand, this is my conundrum." The headmaster continued once his young counterpart did not reply. "It had not been me that had witnessed your reform. It had not been me that consoled you as you lamented your mis-decisions. It had not been me that trusted your convictions as you walked the darkened path at my request. No. It had been a man that I would become, or might become depending on my decisions now. Foresight is both a blessing and a curse."

The old man's piercing blue eyes fixed upon Snape's. The haze of Occlumency swept across his dark eyes but he felt no probing push of Legilimency. "It is the unfortunate truth Severus, that though I do not doubt those memories are from myself, I doubt the intent on which I had gifted them to us. After all surely I would have realised I had given you no reason to trust me, and knowing me, no reason to trust my own judgement."

The memory played across Snape's mind. The one of a young boy, staring with adoring blue eyes up at one of the darkest wizards of history.

"This is why I believe I had given us both those memories as security." A grimness settled upon those same blue eyes, no longer touched with such foolish notions. "So that neither one of us could betray the other without facing the possibility of dire consequences wrought."

A chill pierced Snape's heart. "Why would you… Have I not been loyal? Have I not obeyed your every command? Even sacrificed the boy on your orders! Against my very vow!"

The headmaster tipped his head in a weary relent. "And yet. Those decisions you made upon your turn had been done so without ever facing the object of your regret."

Snape froze, his heart burning cold with fear and anger. "Don't you dare put her to harm."

"Oh I wouldn't dream of it." Dumbledore replied lightly then lapsed into silence. Snape glowered threateningly at the headmaster, shaken by the implications of his words, not at all finding himself able to settle his disquiet despite the assurances he had been given.

Unexpectedly, the headmaster broke his own silence with a question. "Do you still love her?"

Of all the idiotic questions Snape had been asked in either of his lifetimes, that one would rank highly. "I've never stopped."

If Dumbledore sensed the bristle in the younger man's voice, he gave no indication. "If I may, what are you doing to deal with that fact? As I understand it you and Miss Evans are not on… shall we say, conversational terms."

Snape almost choked with indignation. "I do not need you to pry!"

"I apologise if I overstep my bounds, but I feel your relationship with her may be of vital importance to your life. It has certainly been so to your last. I need to know how she would affect your conduct and your conviction."

With a dark scowl the younger man replied. "You need not fear. I am keeping to her wishes and staying away from her. I will not be embroiling myself in any foolish attempts to right what has passed. They are mistakes I cannot take back. You need not doubt my utility."

"It is not your utility I doubt." The old man shook his head. "I fear your conviction if such a choice comes to pass between her and our victory."

"There will be no such choice!" Snape hissed, maddened by the mere suggestion. "You _**will**_ keep her safe! That is the condition of my loyalty! I will accept nothing less!"

The headmaster stared at him once more with those piercing blue eyes. Judging. Snape scowled back defiantly, refusing to bow to this.

In an almost unsettlingly even tone, Dumbledore spoke. "I had loved once. It was someone I knew who would never love me back." He shook his head. "My love lead me foolishly close to the darkness."

"You almost became Dumbledore, the Dark Lord of the Greater Good." Snape sneered, not feeling at all charitable with his empathy.

"I prefer the Sparkling Lord of the Greater Good." The headmaster quipped lightly, not at all rising to the remark.

Snape grimaced, dangerously close to being amused. "Do you have to be such a stereotype?"

The headmaster smiled, unable to contain his amusement as well. "I think the point I was making was, your love for Lily lead you in the exact opposite direction. It pulled you from the darkness when you had been all but lost." Snape bowed his head, solemn in his agreement. "However I ask you, should you find a way to bridge the divide between you, where would you lead her?" Snape looked up at him sharply, brows pinching together. "Do you believe yourself truly free of darkness?"

"That too will not happen." Snape muttered with a resigned shake of the head. "Our friendship is dust. Severed by my ill-thought words. It would never see reformation."

A strange look touched Dumbledore's smile. "Perhaps you should think upon the consequences of your current actions beyond the intended results."

Snape bristled protectively. They were back on the topic he did not wish to re-tread. The matters with his Slytherin was of his own. "Slytherin needs this." He growled. "I cannot see how my affairs with my Housemates concern you. Unless… You have rescinded your decision to exclude me as a spy." His heart clutched at the fear invoked by such a thought.

"Why not at all, Severus. Please by all means carry on with what you intend to do." The headmaster smiled a kindly smile. "There are children that need your help. The war can wait."

* * *

December came marching through the halls of Hogwarts. Along with the month came the frigid howling winds that would bring with it heavy snowfall. The weather, however, had been in fluctuation since the closing days of autumn. As such, the transition into the actual winter months came to Lily by such surprise. It had not been until McGonagall came around in Transfigurations with a list for the student Christmas Break stay-overs had Lily been reminded of her duties this season.

On the way to hand in her homework, she threw a glance at the sheet, noting with some warm reminiscence that it was always the first years that had their names on it the moment the list came out. The castle was a new and wonderful place back then, she remembered not wanting to miss a second of it. And back then she had a person to share the wonder with too. Their first Christmas may have been the last time she had seen him truly happy, tucked away from the judging eyes of those that would revolt at the idea of a Gryffindor and Slytherin consorting. But that had been back when times were simple, when the differences between their paths did not seem insurmountable. Back before the cruel realities of the world torn them asunder.

That memory had always intruded on this time of the year, the tinge of sadness that accompanied it turning bitter in her heart. First year was the only Christmas she had spent at Hogwarts, leaving Severus to endure the Break in solitude. She had to shake off that guilt that accompanied her every winter thereafter. With her eyes cast down to the textbook upon her desk, Lily commanded herself to not look up towards him. That guilt should have no place in her heart ever again.

As class end ticked around, Lily shoved her books into her bag, ready to rush off to find her monthly prefectural duties sheet. Her eagerness to jump straight in was stoked by her desperation to escape the gloomy thoughts this season always brought. Her escape however was not quick enough.

"Ms Evans. A word if you please."

Beckoned over by McGonagall, Lily leapt to comply. She approached the stern professor's desk and awaited her attention quietly. "I ask now of your plans for the holidays. Am I correct in assuming you will be joining your family again this year?"

"Yes ma'am." Lily answered. She had planned to return home as she had every break since second year, a pattern that even the professor had seemed to notice.

"Then I believe keeping order on the Hogwarts Express may come down to you, Ms Evans." McGonagall told her with an almost undetectable sigh. "Professor Flitwick had informed me of Ms Tills' decision to sign on to stay for the break. Though it is part of the Head Girls' duty to keep order on the train, am I correct in feeling the responsibility might be completely within your scope of handling?"

"Yes ma'am." Lily answered without hesitation, adding once again to her list of responsibilities without any closure in sight.

"Very well then." McGonagall regarded her with an approving nod. "I shall inform Professor Flitwick immediately that Ms Tills can relax over the break. She need not Apparate from London and back, and believe me, she will appreciate the rest this affords her."

"Oh I know she will." The Gryffindor prefect said earnestly. "I can barely keep on top of my responsibilities. I can't imagine what it'd be like to be Head Girl on top of a seventh year workload."

"Oh please do imagine, Ms Evans." McGonagall suggested with a knowing smile. "Because I should think you'd be a top candidate for that position next year."

Lily went rigid. "Yes Ma'am!" She squeaked. With a brisk nod, McGonagall dismissed her and she left with her delight and apprehension mixed with sobering caution divided in equal parts. She did not wish for it all to spill out before the stern but approving teacher. Nothing could spoil her mood after receiving her hard earned accolades. Nothing!

And almost as soon as she thought those thoughts, she knew the universe would punish her for her hubris.

A loud cry rang out as a scuffle broke out between a small Gryffindor and an equally small Slytherin.

"T'was a bump of the shoulder! That's all!" Shouted the Gryffindor, backing away from the sudden cluster of Slytherins that approached him menacingly. Immediately, Lily knew this was not to have a peaceful resolution, as the sixth years were passing through this hallway. And with them, the Marauders.

"Ohhoh? We going are we?" James stepped up beside the young Gryffindor, wand held out menacingly, a vicious smile upon his face. He walked with a swagger in his step, the swagger that became all the more prominent owing to his recent Quidditch victory against the Slytherins. In that instant, his friends materialised by his side, the four Marauders stood head and shoulders taller than any of the other students involved. Lily's heart dropped. When those four got involved, things tend to not de-escalate.

The Slytherins wisely began backing away. Even in a larger group they did not wish to provoke older students, especially not the likes of the Marauders. James, however, was not letting them retire with grace.

With a casual flick of his wand and the incantation of _Locomotor Mortis_ , he tripped the young trouble starting Slytherin with a leg-locker curse, causing him to flop ungracefully upon his rear. "Now, now. We haven't settled matters yet."

The bound boy's peers appeared hesitant, wands held still aloft. They didn't stand a chance against the Marauders, but it appeared for the sake of one of their own they might just be willing to try.

Lily was almost thankful when they did not have to.

The floored boy's legs sprang open and he scrambled quickly to his feet, out of the way of a glowering Snape that strode into the clash. A sliver of fear touched Lily's heart as she witnessed with what ease the furious boy had dispelled the curse. That same unease was reflected off the Marauders, who did not back down despite being faced with a suddenly changed scenario. The sixth year Slytherins that now accompanied Snape wherever he went approached, wands drawn. Favour was no longer on Gryffindor's side.

Lily prepared to step in, dreading this with the knowledge that she really couldn't do anything to stop it getting big, complex and messy.

However, just as suddenly, the scenario changed again. Snape who looked ready to kick it off held out a hand in a placating gesture to his advancing accomplices. With a firm hand, he guided the young Slytherin by his shoulder, away from the hostilities around them. The boy followed silently and willingly as the older boy directed him back into his throng of housemates.

It occurred to Lily suddenly that the number of green uniforms within the corridor had increased. It was as if every Slytherin from every year group had dropped what they were doing to approach, all watching Snape as if awaiting some sort of signal.

A signal that never came.

Without a backwards glance the skinny boy swept down the corridor, his year-mates in tow. It was as if a spell had broken, the greens melted away, leaving confusion and fear upon the faces of all who witnessed.

Lily saw that look in James' eye. A dark look that spoke of his vicious streak. Her heart dropped. Whatever he had planned might have just escalated in scope. In her mind came scenarios, each more horrible than the next, yet all very much in line with what she knew the Marauders were capable of.

That little voice of conscience screamed at her to stop them, but then that firm conviction of hers spoke, reminding her what a threat a united Slytherin presented.

It would all be for the greater good…

* * *

A strange state had befallen Snape, not that of peace, but something akin to order. Almost a week had passed since his cowing of those blasted Marauders, almost a week of caution and tense corridor walks. He had been sure they would not let go of such a challenge, a fight was within the realm of certainties. A fight that would have Snape come out with the moral high ground, for he would not act first while impressionable eyes were upon him.

The Slytherins that he had imposed his new order upon took to it with an almost suspicious lack of resistance. He remembered even as a professor he had to whittle away at a few of the more reluctant hardliners. But not this time, something had changed.

As he passed members of his House, they would greet him as they would when he had been their Head of House, a familiar scenario, yet jarring in this new context. For he had never commanded any form of respect as a student.

It was perhaps this success that lulled him into abstraction. That dulled his alertness when he was on the most dangerous leg of his journey through the hallowed halls of Hogwarts.

The path from the Alchemy classroom.

It was noon on a Thursday, Alchemy had passed with mixed results. Snape was still unable to utilise both hands for transmutation, a detrimental flaw for an alchemist, but something that Flamel still insisted did not yet paint him as too forgone to be taught.

It was with a head full of his alchemical conundrum he descended the Grand Staircase, lulled by the false sense of security offered by the crowds that swarmed the path. Any tension he might have had upon the seventh floor lessened at the sight of the first flash of green.

As he reached the flight of stairs binding together the third and fourth floors, the ancient staircase creaked beneath him, informing him of the sentient structure's intention to move. He paused his step, bracing for the jolt that came with the shift.

That should have been a moment no danger could reach him, with the only path behind him diverted away and a clear path before him, there should have been nothing to fear.

He felt it before he heard it, that tingle that rose the hairs on the back of his neck. The feeling that upon the otherwise unremarkable magical staircase, he was not alone.

"Petrificus Totalus!" Came the muttered incantation, spell fire flung seemingly from thin air. Snape jumped back in alarm and felt his entire body lock in a body-bind curse. Losing his balance, Snape came crashing down the rest of the way, rolling to a stop on the third floor landing.

Laughter and gasps rang out about him. Staring upwards helplessly, Snape struggled against the spell, panic rising. _Finite Incantatum!_ He screamed over and over again in his mind, willing his wild grasp on wandless magic to obey. Of spells within his wandless scope, counter spells was the only ones he developed a comfortable grasp of in his lifetime. To do so wordlessly too, however, was beyond his abilities.

His stomach clenched as footsteps approached. He bared his clenched teeth, unable to unstick his jaw.

"Well, well. Lookie what we got here. You comfortable there Snivillus?" Came that infuriating voice from above his head. With a casual saunter, James Potter stepped out above him, sinister overtones touching his smile. "Good shot, mate."

Seeming to appear from nowhere, Black was suddenly looming above him too, on his arm draped that blasted cloak of Invisibility. Snape cursed his own inattention. He should have remembered that dratted piece of calamitous artefact. He should have heeded his own instincts! He had not been alone when that stair shifted, when he paused to brace. He had not been alone the entire trek down.

It had been an ambush, and one that he had walked all too foolishly into. It was not the first time he had been made a fool of by a school child allied with the element of surprise.

He felt his locked head turn as the rubber welt of a shoe nudge not-so-gently against his cheekbone. "God he's ugly from any angle isn't he?" Black's sneering voice mocked down at him, eliciting a shrill chuckle that could only have belonged to Pettigrew. The entire set of Marauders must be in on this attack. That werewolf would no doubt be off somewhere hiding his face, pretending his prefectural duties required him off re-mediating elsewhere.

Black's boot retreated and Snape's head was allowed to lull back to rest. Above him he saw that arrogant Potter, turn to address the no doubt gathering crowd. "You see this Snakes? You admire this pathetic excuse for a human being?"

Eyes wide Snape's heart raced, the slow sickening realisation dawning of what the Marauders were planning within their twisted minds. The memory of that incident by the lake blared forth warningly. The humiliation of the day destroyed his entire life, scarred him to his very core.

Black stared down at him, his handsome face contorted in a vicious wolf-like smile, anticipation tensed upon his shoulders. His wand casually twirled between his fingers, ready to cast when given the word. Snape struggled wordlessly against those bonds, realising the futility of his predicament. With great effort he calmed his turbulent mind, that screaming fear that roiled against what was coming. He only had one chance if he means to save himself from humiliation, to save what he had built for his Slytherins.

With a hateful glare Snape cast his black eyes upwards, challenging the vicious boy to meet his eyes directly. Unable to resist, those mocking grey ones slipped down and locked onto his. With a great push Snape channelled every forceful scrap of magic into that antagonising boy's mind. Those grey eyes widened with surprise as Snape's Legilimency stabbed painfully into Black's thoughts, unravelling the boy's grasp of magic and physically stumbling him with confusion.

Snape felt the curse weaken as he forced his jaws apart. _"_ Finite Incantatum!" He roared, shattering the spell that netted about him.

With a swift push, Snape rolled onto his knees, scrambling upright, wand in hand. Before he could find his feet however, a black shoe of fine leather drove hard into his gut, the pain driving him to his knees. He curled down, gasping through his winding and pain. A firm tug took his wand from his weakened grasp.

"Sorry James." Black's sheepish mutter sounded overhead. "Almost lost the slippery shit." Another swift kick came to his side, Snape gritted his teeth, forcing down the yelp of pain, willing his gasping breath to settle.

"His skinny weak arse wasn't going to get away from my Quidditch reflexes. No harm done, my dear Sirius." Came that smarmy arrogant voice.

Snape stilled his wheeze, willing himself to uncurl and pull himself upright on his knees. Both Black and Potter diverted their gaze wisely, they were not such fools as to fall for the same trick twice. A wand rested gently against his throat, Black's wand. Snape glared hatefully upwards, taking in that sneering Black and that casually vicious Potter. With a flick of his messy hair, that brute of a Quidditch Captain drew out his wand, in boy's other hand was grasped Snape's own.

Potter and Black were both fit and physically capable young men, conditioned by their love of sports and roughhousing. Though unbound, Snape did not move, he would stand no chance in a fight without his wand.

He felt a drop of sweat roll its way down the back of his neck. At the mercy of the Marauders yet again. Alone. Yet again.

"Expelliarmus!" Came an unexpected cry. Black's wand flung out of his grasp and clattered across the floor. A young Slytherin boy darted forth, snatching it up, staring defiantly at the hulking Gryffindor that towered above him.

Potter turned minutely, surprised by this manifestation of un-Slytherin behaviour. His moment's distraction was the best Snape could hope for.

He lunged at the larger boy, shoving him backwards into that gormless Pettigrew, stumbling the larger boy over his smaller friend. In that moment of imbalance, Snape prised his wand from Potter's grasp and with a triumphant snarl, he sent both boys flying with a flick of his wrist. Surprise felled greater wizards than himself, and so too would surprise bring low stronger men than Potter.

With a roar, Black lunged at him, wand back in hand. Without even turning to look, Snape flicked a stunner over his shoulder and beast of a boy fell over with a thundering thump.

Potter scrambled quickly to his feet, his own wand still within his grasp. Before he could level it with his opponent, it sailed from his hand, leaving him unarmed against the advancing smaller Slytherin.

"What a delightful turn of the tables." Snape sneered, his wand tip not wavering from the centre of his enemy's chest. Cries of alarm sounded from the crowds surrounding, the very same crowds that had jeered at Snape's misfortune. The throngs of young Slytherins watched on with wide eager eyes, some bracing the brave boy upright, the boy that took a beating to give Snape his chance.

Their eager impressionable eyes watching what he would do.

Pettigrew had found his feet, but started with wide eyed fear when his mind caught up with the situation. Snape's eyes narrowed as Potter backed away slowly, shielding his battered and whimpering friend. Unarmed.

Snape's hand itched upon the handle of his ebony wood wand, his mind seducing him with the thoughts of the damage he could wreck upon his most hated enemy. Pay back for those years of vicious assaults, of cruel humiliation. That boy would crumple like nothing in the face of Snape's wealth of power and experience.

But those watching eyes stopped him. Those young impressionable eyes, those Slytherins he was trying break of their darkness. His eyes flickering out to them, meeting those eager stares, meeting fearful stares. Meeting those green eyes, staring from on high. Eyes that he would never wish to see hatred within.

With a bitter taste in his mouth, Snape lowered his wand. His thundering heart settled beneath his bruised and battered ribs. "Get out of my sight." He spat.

Potter's hazel eyes widened as he watched, not at all believing the smaller boy's intent of mercy. "What are you playing at?" He snarled, swatting at the olive branch extended.

Snape glared hatefully. "Being the better man."

"Ha! What?" The tall boy's derisive laughter never reached his eyes. "You? The better man? If you really believe that then you must be more deluded than I thought." His white teeth bared in a snarl, a hateful fury glaring from behind the thick panes of his glasses. "Nobody would ever think big of you, Death Eater scum! You and your evil snakes don't fool anyone!"

Snape's jagged breathing ceased, his eyelids shuttered. His heart thudded loudly in his breast, muscle tensed. In his mind's eye he saw those wide impressionable eyes, those staring judgemental ones. So many gathered in this spot, their attentions captured. It was this moment his voice would reach furthest it would ever be possible to reach. To finally shake off this pretence.

As a child it always took him courage to speak his heart aloud, but as an adult he had courage enough for this.

"I will not be a Death Eater!"

Gasps elicited from those around him before being swallowed by the sudden silence. The Stairwell fell deathly quiet. Sceptical disbelief shone from Potter's eyes, but he did not speak, he simply stared. Waiting.

Snape took deep breath, feeling an almost calm settle upon him. "I tell all who stand here today! I , under no uncertain terms, will not become a Death Eater! That is not the fated path of the House of Slytherin!" He paused, turning his eyes from the disbelieving Potter and sweeping across the silent Slytherin youths who stood beside him, meeting the eyes of the one who assisted him when he needed help the most. "And if there is any Slytherin still willing to follow me, know that our road will not take that direction."

He turned away, his back to his shocked opponent, fearing no assaults. Not at this moment. His eyes swept up and met then the wide greys of Rosier, standing frozen upon the lower staircase. With him were Avery and Mulciber, an assortment of shaken Death Eaters to be, staring at him with indiscernible eyes.

Snape met their eyes briefly, without hesitation, without guilt. If it was betrayal they felt, they would not get any condolences from him. He strode past them, not interested in exchanging words at this moment.

The crowds parted before him, a silent confusion radiating from Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws alike. The Gryffindors stared in disbelief, but no words of contrary parted from any of their lips. The Slytherins however, just stared.

* * *

A/N: Woohoo! Finally the deception is up! I wonder how this would change Snape's relationship dynamics? One might say the real story starts now :D

A thank you to my first Beta reader Caleo Ignacium for your work on this chapter.

Edit: Thank you to the unknown reviewer who picked up my mistake. No matter the care I take I still cannot stop errors from occurring, so kudos to the eagle eyed reader.

Next Update: Friday 30th June 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 11: The Path Once Closed**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	11. The Path Once Closed

**Chapter 11: The Path Once Closed**

In the oppressive silence of the stairwell, Lily stood stunned. She watched the retreating figure of that lone Slytherin. His parting words still echoing within her mind.

 _What?_

Her heart thumped as she saw him slip past his Death Eater friends. That smug Rosier, the nasty Avery, and that vile Mulciber. All rattled. Unable to believe that he had uttered those words. As much in disbelief as Lily was.

Remus leaned over the balcony ledge. "Was that…?" was all he managed. His shaken voice spoke perturbation as deep as his prefect counterpart felt. He had been standing there when Lily arrived, drawn on her way from the Study Hall by the commotion in the stairwell. The Marauder prefect was no doubt keeping distance from his reckless friends as they unleashed their chaos, giving him plausible deniability of his involvement.

Lily hadn't known what happened to precipitate the result, however she had arrived in time to see Snape point a wand to James and Peter, looking every moment closer to take the two apart piece by bloody piece. Lily had felt her body move, she had felt her intention to stop him and whatever madness that took hold of him. But then his eyes had met hers and she had frozen. It had lingered only briefly before flickering away, then the unexpected had happened.

He had lowered his wand.

He had chosen to exchange words instead. His angry violent ways, his eternal hatred for his bitter rival, somehow restrained. An action so unlike him. An action so unexpected.

Yet it could not have prepared her for what was to come.

"I will not be a Death Eater!"

At those words, her heart had thudded to a stop. She had stared in disbelief, as the boy continued to shout, not recanting his statement, not diminishing its meaning, but cementing it firmly in its certainty.

Words she had always wanted to hear from him, shouted across the crowded stairwell, reaching the ears of Gryffindors and Slytherins alike.

She could not move, even after Snape marched down through the Entrance Hall flight. She could not uproot herself. Her heart beat heavily in her ears, disbelief and hope tingled down her spine setting her stomach aflutter.

Remus spoke quietly then. "I think… we should do something."

It was like the spell broke upon her. Lily shook off her daze as the sounds of Hogwarts bubbled back through the haze within her mind. Whispers and mutters filled the air, a few opinionated voices carried, but those were few and far between.

Lily descended quickly, Remus on her tail, as they reached the third floor landing. The young Slytherins that lingered there shrunk back at the prefects' approach, the boy that sported bruises upon his face stared defiantly up at the Gryffindors. "Take him to the Hospital Wing." Lily ordered, unable to say more than that. Slowly she turned her attention to the Gryffindor boy, still frozen in shock and disbelief.

"James." Lily prodded gently, shaking him out of his daze. Peter was by Sirius' prone body, Remus already setting to work Rennervating him. "James. Whatever has happened, you can't avoid the consequences." Lily insisted, meeting that boy's distant eyes. "Go down to McGonagall's office. Tell her what happened."

No word of objection passed the boy's lips, just a tired solemn nod.

* * *

Dinner was going to be tense. Snape felt the eyes of the room upon him when he entered. He had arrived early for dinner, but evidently, he had not been the only one who had that thought. The great tables of Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff already lined with students, staring unabashedly at his entrance. Only the Slytherin table sat bare, not yet dinner time, and not as eager to witness politics in action.

Snape had skipped lunch as he often did when imposing great political upheaval, giving his Slytherins time and space to think. Time to cool their head. Time to decide. He hid in an empty classroom until then, feeling the calm of the silence envelope him, drinking in the lightness upon his soul.

Finally unburdened by that masquerade.

It would be here, at dinner, that things would be decided. Snape took his usual seat at the corner of the table, pulling out his 'Basic Principles of Alchemy' and waited. Ordinarily he did not read at the meal table, but he needed something to direct his attention while he covertly watched the arrangement of his Slytherins.

Then the entrance door opened, its hinges squeaking loudly in the inexplicable silence of the crowded room. Slytherin seventh years marched in, their eyes cast downwards, away from the anxious stares of the other Houses.

Travers and Wilkes, without any hesitation, deposited themselves on the furthest end of the table, leaving Snape no doubt what their position on the matter would be. He did not lift his head to acknowledge them, or the handful of other seventh years who sat themselves neutrally at the middle of the table.

First years trickled in, wide nervous eyes glancing about, taking in the heavy air that surrounded them. They took their seats as close to the seventh years as possible without committing to one side or the other. Snape closed his eyes and turned the page as food began materializing before him, not taking in a word of text. Listening. Hoping.

Miscellaneous year groups began to trickle in, pausing with hesitation at the table arrangement, understanding dawning on each one of them as to the implications of their seating this day.

Without warning, a body dropped onto the bench opposite of Snape. His eyes flickered up over his text book, seeing the top of the head of a short youngster. Slowly, the Potion Master lowered his text book, eyes meeting those of a smiling boy, the same boy who disarmed Black to the detriment of his own safety. Beside him, younger years began to take their seats, no doubt or worry clouding their eyes, a heavy decision apparently lightly made.

Then the sixth years arrived. Avery, Rosier and Mulciber stood frozen at the table. Lester peered nervously up and down the arrangement, the decision sitting no longer so lightly. But Urquart, no hesitation in his stride, walked the length of the table, passing his usual seat, passing each and every other Slytherin, to sit directly beside the upstart.

It was like a light flickered on within those hesitating sixth years. Doubt left Lester's eyes as he strode over and took the seat beside Urquart, a nervous smile cast to the boy in the corner, the Slytherin who reached out to him when he had no one.

Then to everyone's surprise, Mulciber, with a heaving squeak, settled his hefty frame upon the bench by Lester, shooting a nod to the surprised reformed Death Eater.

Triumph burned within Snape's eyes, as he swept his attention across the other tables, meeting those silent, watching eyes, taking in the muted disbelief branded on each of their faces. Those green eyes stared too, burning brightly amongst the reds of Gryffindor. For the first time, Snape met them without any accompanying sense of shame. He met them, proud in the knowledge, he had changed things for his House, and however slightly, for her.

Snape's panning eyes pulled away from Lily's, sweeping up to the high table to the watching eyes of the Professors. He found those blue ones, staring out from his throne-like seat. That little-knowing twinkle shining out from behind those half-moon glasses.

* * *

Evening had fallen and curfew was not long behind it. With two resounding knocks, Lily pushed open the door to the boy's dormitory, startling the occupants within.

James, Black, Remus and Peter sat two by two, along the sides of two facing beds, appearing to huddle in discussion. Between them lay a parchment, held aloft by James. Upon its surface, the ink spots appeared to move.

"Is that the map?" Lily asked, marching forward. James made to hide the item, but Lily held her hand out, demanding it. "I'm not going to confiscate it. I need it."

"You're looking for him?" James asked sheepishly, not even having it in him to look pleased to have Lily in his room.

Lily nodded. "I need to know where I could find him. He isn't in the common room, I had Slughorn check."

"He could be lying you know." Black muttered half-heartedly with a plastered scowl. "Who knows with their type."

"But Sirius we've been over this." Remus beseeched. "What possible reason would he have to lie?"

"I don't know, Moony. And frankly, I don't care."

"Well, I do!" Lily reached out again, demanding that map.

James refused to meet her eyes. "It could be dangerous." He muttered. "It could all be a trap to lure you to him…" If he was convinced by what he said, he did not sound it.

"James." Remus prompted gently. "Of everyone here, Lily's the one in the best position to get any answers."

Those hazel eyes glanced up toward his friend and fellow Marauders, then finally meeting those stormy green ones.

"Just give her the bloody map!" Black snarled. Peter looked away, unwilling to voice his opinion, but his curious eyes betrayed him.

Reluctantly, James rolled up the map and offered it to Lily. "He's in classroom three on the ground floor. He's been in there all afternoon and he returned there after dinner. He hasn't moved since."

"Thanks." Lily said, a smile touching her lips as she spotted the label Severus Snape in the area where the Marauder had described.

"Once you're done, wipe the map by tapping it and saying 'Mischief Managed.'" Lily offered James a grateful smile. With some effort, he returned it weakly. With a sudden start, he stood and headed for his trunk.

"One more thing," He turned and unfurled a beautiful silver cloak. "This is an invisibility cloak. An heirloom that's been in my family for generations. My parents don't even know I smuggled it into school." He held it out to Lily, offering her that priceless artefact without any hesitation. "Wear it and be careful."

* * *

The sun had set, the light from the castle cast long shadows across the snow coated Hogwarts grounds. Snape watched the shapes and colours from his window seat in the empty classroom, appreciating the calm the sight evoked within him. It had been too long since he was able to sit and relax without pressing worries. Just him and the quiet of the turning world. Before long, the nipping cold of the season would sour his mood as it had always done. Any contentment he could ever find always had a time-limit.

He huffed out a puff of breath, watching the white tendrils of mist curl up into the frigid air and dissipate. The chill of the air was apparent to him, but he did not feel it upon his skin.

As a child, he found he could not escape this ever prevailing cold. His ragged clothes did little to guard him from the chill. His solution in his teenage years had always been to rely on a heating charm so that he might weather the frigid halls of the castle without being driven into the shelter of a room with a hearth. As an adult, he had long since been able to afford warm winter garments, the salary of a Professor being more than enough to update his wardrobe to something less pathetic. As such, he had not been forced to rely on a long term heating charm for years. He had long forgotten how finicky the individually-cast version of the spell was, and how stuffy he felt when the spell settled correctly.

He sighed, leaning back in his chair, finding a sort of peace, despite the dreariness of the season and the discomfort of the spell. Discomfort would have to be the norm in his winters now, at least until he could afford the alternative.

He did not return to the common room after dinner. He was not needed, his presence would have been something of a hindrance as those within pondered the implications of the day, the shift in Slytherin politics that reared suddenly and unexpectedly. The House did not implode in on itself. While resistance existed, the response had been more positive than he could have hoped for.

Then again, it should not have come as much of a surprise as it did. After all, these were just children, they were not yet evil. The rest was something beyond his control now. He had laid his cards upon the table and taken the first course of actions, now everything was left up to the ticking of fate.

Stretching backwards, Snape relaxed into his wooden seat, enjoying the lightened burden. Soon, he would be chased back into his dorm by the looming curfew, and with it would follow the pressure of the new Slytherin dynamics. But for now, Snape felt he deserved some peace. For the first time in months, in possibly years, he felt his actions had made an inkling of difference.

His well-deserved rest, however, was suddenly and rudely disturbed by the opening creak of the classroom door. The hairs upon the back of his neck pricked at the lack of a visitor behind the opened gap. In an old haunted castle such as Hogwarts, it was not an uncommon occurrence, but Snape knew better than to indulge complacency again. He flicked his wand out, casting Human-Presence-Revealing Spell, and before him he felt the spell flare.

With a snarl, Snape leapt to his feet, whipping his wand around, summoning a gust of wind to unveil that skulking Potter.

But it was not Potter who stood beneath the cloak.

Shock numbed him to the core. Snape stood frozen, meeting those wide green eyes of a girl he never believed would stand before him ever again.

"Lily…" He breathed.

His voice tore her from her wide-eyed silence. With a quick flick of her wand, she closed the door and began weaving together basic privacy wards. Snape's hands hung slack beside him, unable to pull himself together enough to help.

What was she doing here? This never happened before, she never sought him out. They never had another opportunity to talk.

 _Why are you here?_ He thought, but all he managed was, "Why?"

Lily whipped back, eyes wide and incredulous. "I should be asking you that."

"You weren't coming back." He insisted, his mind rebelling against his own words, screaming at him for bringing that up. "You didn't forgive me."

A frown touched Lily's face, a cautious disbelief. "And you were going to become a Death Eater."

It finally clicked, after so many years. After an entire lifetime. It was never about insulting her, never about calling her a _mudblood_. He almost laughed at his own pigheaded stupidity.

"Well?" Lily asked, green eyes searching his own dark ones. Those green eyes that touched his very soul. "Is it true? Do you mean it?" He heard the catch in her voice, that little quiver in her tone. Her breathy disbelief mingling with a pitched hope.

"I do." He growled, heart pounding within his chest.

Silence answered his words. Lily stared, green eyes shining in the dimming lights. Slowly, her expression softened, cracks forming upon her continence as tears welled in those shimmering green eyes. With an angry motion, she wiped them away, her breath hitching with every intake.

"Do you mean it?" She demanded. "Y-you better not be lying! Do you truly mean it?"

"Yes!" Snape insisted, hope flared within, warring with his deep seated cynicism. His heart raced. _Please believe me._ "Every word of it. I am done with the Dark Lord's promises. I don't want it. Any of it."

They stood five feet apart, unmoving. Staring. Silent. Those green eyes searched his black ones, looking for something. The temptation reared up, the temptation to dive into them, to reveal her thoughts.

With a shuddering breath, Snape closed his eyes, calming his sparked nerves, controlling his roiling hormone-induced temptation. He would not violate that mind. Not hers.

He felt a touch on his arm. His eyes snapped open in shock, meeting those green eyes that appeared right before him, staring seemingly straight into his soul. Lily stood right before him, her lips curling upwards as the disbelief melted away, as the hesitation left her eyes.

"Severus." She muttered, finally smiling. She flung her arms around him, his breath escaped him in a sudden _whoosh_ as Lily took him in a tight embrace. His hands hovering awkwardly over her form, uncertain where to put them, or if his touch was even welcome.

He felt her shudder against him, her soft sobs reaching his ears. Her hands balled into fists upon his back, scrunching up his thin robes and pulling them back. He felt the ill-fitting, frayed garment strain against his limbs. "Idiot!" she cried lightly through her muffled sob, her face pressed against his thin chest. "Why did it take you this long?"

His heart was beating so loud that he was certain she could hear it beating against his rib cage. She had no idea… how long it took him.

 _Why did it take me so long?_

Resting his hands against her shoulders, he finally returned her embrace, enveloping her tightly in his arms.

 _You have no idea… how long._

He pulled her in tight, laying his cheek against the top of her head, feeling the soft locks of her beautiful red hair tickle his throat. She smelt of sweet lilacs and a hint of what reminded him of rain, the familiarity invoking his memories, and constricted his heart painfully.

He couldn't stop the sob that tore shuddering from his frame. "I'm sorry." He muttered, his voice unsteady. Tears spilt over from his eyes, dripping upon Lily's silken locks. "I am so sorry."

He felt her relax in his arms, her fists loosening upon his robes. "I forgive you." She muttered, still muffled against his chest.

This time she did not reject his apology. This time she did not turn away.

And this time he understood why.

* * *

Darkness had well and truly fallen when Lily returned to the Fat Lady's corridor, and along with it the curfew. James' invisibility cloak really lived up to its hype when it shielded her from the notice of Filch, who was shuffling from the third floor landing with his lantern held aloft. She often wondered when the caretaker slept. He spends all day maintaining the castle against the destructive capabilities of several hundred unruly magical children and he spends all night guarding the halls against the roaming of those aforementioned.

She hoped Severus found his way back without evoking the attention of midnight patrols. She had offered to walk him back to his common room under the cloak, but he politely declined.

"What is fear in the loss of a few points, honestly?" He muttered with a rueful twitch of the lips as they had parted in the Entrance Hall.

She had watched him stalk off, swallowed by the darkened gloom of the dungeon corridor. Her heart fluttering light, almost weightless. The fear she had always held for him, the guilt she felt for cutting him off, for needing to protect herself from his fanaticism, all dispelled in the course of a day.

And it took him six damned months to come to his senses. She shook off the annoyance that surged suddenly. The important thing was that he stepped off that path. That he changed and returned to her. She could be part of his life again, without fear of where he might lead her. Or what he might do to her.

It was all in the past now.

She suppressed the urge to squeal and jump up and down, lest she attract the attention of another roaming adult. The cloak only hid her form, it did nothing to muffle her sound.

His change of heart was everything she could ever hope for. More even. For never in her wildest dream did she imagine he'd be leading a crusade to reform his own House. To change the values from within and save other children from falling into the same darkness he almost had.

With a light spring in her step, Lily approached the Portrait.

"Periwinkles." She called out, rattling the Fat Lady from her daze.

"What? Who?" The portrait glanced about, still half asleep.

"Periwinkle." Lily called again, still unwilling to reveal herself lest her presence past curfew be reported.

"Oh, alright. Hurry up." The Fat Lady grumbled, swinging open with an almost asinine reluctance. Lily hopped through before the temperamental portrait could change her mind.

The canvas swung shut behind her with a harrumph. Only in the safety and warmth of the cosy Gryffindor common room did Lily finally whip off her cloak. And despite the advancing hour, the room was not barren of occupants.

"Lily!" James leaped from his seat by the fire. "I was so worried!" He was the only other presence in that otherwise empty room. With a start, she checked her watch, only just realizing exactly how late it was.

"Wow." She muttered. "Sorry. Wasn't watching the time. I'm fine as you can see."

James strode over, glancing her over, not taking her for her word. "Your eyes are red." He observed with a grim worried frown.

"Yep. Had a good cry." Lily replied, wiping her tired, sore eyes for good measure. She grinned brightly in an attempt to dispel the serious expression plastered across the tall boy's face. It honestly had no place there.

With a warm smile and a spring in her step, Lily held out the cloak and map, returning them to their rightful owner. "Thanks for lending me these. They saved my hide on the way up."

A smugness managed to work its way onto his worried face. He ran his fingers through the back of his messy hair as he fought to contain his reactive smile. "So? How'd it go?" He asked in a cool voice. His forced calm not fooling Lily for a minute.

"I believe him." James' fingers ran through his hair once again, a reflex now more than a true conscious action. A small shudder passed through his expression, his eyes aglow from the dim firelight and vexation.

With a quick flick of her head, Lily indicated the chairs. She didn't want to stand near the draughty portrait hole. After spending so many hours in a frigid unheated classroom, all she wanted was to cosy up to the roaring fire.

Sinking into the plush seat, a worry suddenly niggled at the back of her mind about how much worse Severus must have felt the cold. His robes were always so rough and thin, much like himself. Though he felt very warm to the touch, she couldn't help but think she really shouldn't have kept him up. But she had been so reluctant to let him go.

Lily had made him talk, for hours, about what he had been up to lately. What was happening in his life, she had missed so much of it. He had not been so forthcoming with his answers, keeping them short and vague. He had always been shy, but never with her. It hurt how much distance six months had put between them, but the fact he was by her side again was enough for now. Everything else would mend with time.

When it had been finally time to part, she had felt the sudden thrill of irrational fear that today had been all a dream. As they had walked silently side by side down the hallway to the Entrance Hall, she had kept shooting glances at him, fearing that this noble, calm Severus did not exist. That she'd wake up to find her best friend was truly gone from the world.

Maybe that was why she had held onto him so tightly, so eager to bury her face into his chest and drink up his familiar scent. That citric toned bitter aroma had tickled her nose, the smell that seeped into his robes from the time he spent around the Potion storehouse. He had always asked for extra time in the labs every year, extra hours to work on his experiments with special ingredients not accessible to the usual student population. Slughorn had always agreed, in return for Severus' assistance in sorting and packing the potion supplies he received by House Elf delivery every month. Why Severus hadn't done the same this year was anyone's guess. Perhaps the workload had finally caught up with him too, especially if he was now walking the path of an alchemist.

So much had changed. Terrifying, thrilling change.

James sunk into the seat opposite, watching her distant smile with tired eyes. The firelight danced upon the lens of his glasses, giving his hazel eyes a shimmering orange quality. "Careful Lily." He muttered. "I know you believe him… but he could still be just lying."

"Or he could be telling the truth." Lily hadn't meant to deliver that so snappily.

"I know." James' eyes drifted away, shadows carved upon his face by the relief of the firelight. "Just be careful, okay?"

Lily felt her heart settle, her thoughts warm in her becalmed soul. "James, I know there's a chance that everything could be a lie. It was always more likely that he would succumb to the worst in himself." She smiled a small hesitant expression tinged with her troubled thoughts. "But... This is the first time I've ever felt true hope that he hasn't fallen too far, that he could be saved… I want to believe..."

She looked up, meeting James' fire-tinted hazel eyes. "Can you understand? Wanting to believe my friend is not lost to me? That he, somehow, has reformed beyond my wildest dreams?"

James' lips drew together in a thin white line, a small dip forming between his brows. He gave a small nod. An offer of acknowledgement, if not agreement.

"I can't say I'm won over," He muttered. "But I hope you're right. For your sake, and ours, that he truly meant what he said." He stood from the couch and straightened his robes. "Good night Lily. And good luck."

"Goodnight James." She offered lightly to his retreating back, feeling the sudden knot of guilt rear up within her. The implications of any fancy she might have with the boy changed drastically in the face of a repaired link with Severus.

Because, no matter how much situations might change, it did not change the past. James and Severus were still bitter enemies, and no matter how much time passed it did not change what had passed. Scarred by the terrible incidents that had occurred over the years.

For the first time tonight, Lily felt her elation ebb. Her heart clenched with dread over the complication that would be certain to arise. To be able to maintain a friendship with both Severus and James… That keeping one meant losing the other…

She closed her eyes and turned her flailing thoughts away, she did not want to face them tonight. Slowly, she sought out that little happy spot she had gained with Severus' return. That was the most important thing she needed to think on. Her Sev came back to her.

Everything else will mend with time.

* * *

A/N: Took a while but we're finally here. Relationship status: Friends once again. Short chapter this week but I hope I made you feel plenty.

A thank you to my Beta readers Caleo Ignacium and Sattwa100 for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 14th July 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 12: Enemy of My Enemy**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	12. Enemy of My Enemy

**Chapter 12: Enemy of My Enemy**

Christmas was right around the corner. A terrible, inescapable fact. Snape's method of dealing with this festive bollocks usually involves putting on an extra dour scowl as he swept through the corridors.

But this time, he simply did not feel his heart in it.

"Heya Sev!" Lily greeted him with a smile as he prowled into the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. He could not fight the slackening of his glower then, but he wished so dearly he wasn't so damned stiff when he made to wave back. He lacked the ability to wave properly. Imagine that.

It had been a week and three days since Snape's dramatic announcement in the stairwell. A week and three days since Lily had approached him that frigid evening. A week and three days since she had forgiven him, without knowing the extent of forgiveness he sought.

Though the air about them had drastically changed, nothing much else had. Apart from sharing the same study table, in a strangely empty library on one Saturday afternoon, and not going out of their ways to avoid each other. Nothing much changed about their schedules, yet it felt an age of difference.

In this lifetime, he did not have to part from her on a sour note. Perhaps that would eventually be enough for him.

Stalking over to his usual seat in the back, Snape settled. He did not attempt to move his seating closer to Lily. Despite how his relationships with her might have changed, he felt adjusting his seating plans might be taken as a tad desperate.

"Snape." Mulciber greeted with a nod. He kept his seat in the back corner and hadn't moved to physically dissociate himself like Avery and Rosier had. Those two had moved perceptibly in to the opposite corner, eyeing the defectors warily.

Internal politics in Slytherin had shifted drastically in the past week. The shock of Snape's proclamation of succession of the known order had mellowed in the coming days, but the status quo could not find restoration. He had found his gamble correct. Children did not wish to be alone, they followed the shifting dynamic with the breeziest of ease.

While the children adapted to the change well enough, it was the ones that neared adulthood that proved problematic for the Once-Head of Slytherin. The ones to which the path of darkness was not so far into their futures. Travers and Wilkes had completely divorced him and those he associated with, and with them went Rosier and Avery. They had made their decision known as they sat for dinner that very evening. A decision that found them on the spectrum of outcasts to their great shock, and upon inspection by use of Legilimency, mounting regret.

Almost all the younger Slytherins found themselves in the neutral or pro party. Regulus had chosen to sit himself neutrally upon the table, as had many of the fifth year Slytherins, but a handful had thrown their lot in with Snape.

The boy who sat himself opposite of him, the very same one who saved Snape's hide in the stairwell, identified himself as a fourth year boy named Lincon Rawkas. He never came to Snape's notice in the past, despite the boy's casual acquaintance with the Death Eater gang. Whatever reasons Rawkas might have had for joining, it was apparent it had not been a true belief of their blood purity ideals. Indeed, many of the youth jumped at this offer of a way out. A very telling glimpse into the mental state of these troubled youths. Few children chose willingly to walk the path of darkness. Circumstance forced most down that path, as it had once Snape.

But for some, it was a matter of deeply rooted belief. Some whose families had impressed that idea upon them since childhood. Very few stood plainly against the majority like Travers and Wilkes had, but sat very tenuously neutral. They did not wish to become outcasts, but they wore their ideals plainly upon their demeanour. The Legilimens did not need to delve far to see the resentment they held for the shift. Snape knew he could not expect things to change easily, but the fact they did not rock the boat was enough for now. The Once-Head-of-Slytherin was willing to meet them half way as compromise, and hope that under the influence of the new majority they might slowly change their ways. Pressure from their peers, after all, was one of the hardest influences to fight at this age.

Peering carefully from his books, Snape sent another exploratory glance to Lily. She sat at the front, chatting energetically to her blond friend, with laughter that reminded him of ringing bells. She shook her head, sending a cascade of her crimson hair trickling over her shoulders.

"So that's why, huh?" A high drawling voice snapped the dark eyed boy out of his mesmerisation. Urquart deposited himself full bodily into the seat by Snape, the seat Avery had once occupied. "She's pretty I'll give you that."

"Shut up." Snape muttered scowling, trying to keep the color from his face. Lester strode by for the back seat, poised to greet but made hesitant by the dour boy's expression. Snape gave him a curt nod and the muggle-born appeared relieved as he darted for his seat.

"Snape's been after her since first year." Mulciber grumbled. Snape turned his glare upon him, daring him to continue.

"Muggle-born I'm guessing?" Urquart ventured, not at all cowed by Snape's frazzling temper.

Mulciber snorted. "Haven't been paying much attention for the past five years have you?"

"No. I generally didn't pay any heed to any of you Death Eater wannabes."

Snape internally sighed at the ensuing silence. Ever since the formation of this new combination of odd ducks, there had been a discernible tension between the once-voluntary-outcast and the once Death Eater gang ringleader. Neither was publicly snapping at each other's throats, but Snape was too old to be blind to the enmity.

All that simmering tension was sidelined, however, and replaced by another set of long-standing animosity when the door swung open and admitted the Marauders. Snape glared adamantly away from the four stragglers, anger bubbling close to the surface, but wise enough to contain it. The Marauders had been placed on a week's worth of detention by McGonagall for their stunt at the stairwell, a light rap on the wrists compared to the maliciousness of their actions.

He tried not to pay any heed to the four that settled in the second row, with Potter depositing himself directly behind that muggle girl he pursued with such callous disregard. She turned with a smile and a greeting for that malicious boy, stoking the furious hurt within Snape. Even after everything that happened, even after she realised what that James Potter was capable of, she would still regard him so warmly. The crushing unfairness of the world reasserted its grip upon Snape's pessimism. The dismayed boy looked away, trying to distract himself from his writhing soul with classwork.

Professor Leafley had appeared at some point during Snape's distraction and was peppering away at the black board with her charmed chalk piece. With a disgruntled glower, Snape wondered why he even bothered to remember the Professor's name considering she wasn't going to last the year. He honestly didn't remember how it went down for her, or in fact any of his seven Defence Professors. That was how unremarkable Snape found his education in the subject to be. The only reason he maintained an Outstanding was all down to his own tenacity and eagerness to read any text relating to the dark arts. It became apparent by the fourth week of education that a lot of theory material covered in Defence for sixth years had mostly been topics Snape would have taught his fourth years.

"Now class turn to page three hundred and ninety four." She declared with a bright beaming smile. "Today we're taking a look at werewolves."

 _Make that third years_ , Snape thought with a malicious smirk as he glared over the rapidly paling Lupin and his suddenly sheepish Marauders.

* * *

Defence Against the Dark Arts class ended as it started. Unremarkable. When it was apparent during the course of the hour that the werewolf lesson was not causing the Marauders any further mental distress, Snape found no more stimulation in that well-learned topic. He simply spent the rest of the class scowling glumly into his textbook until the teacher told them to pack their things and to write a foot on the topic of legislation regarding the beasts and how the system discriminates against them unfairly. Merlin's beard, she was a bleeding heart.

With a firm scowl fixed upon his face, Snape packed his bags. He could see the unthreading seams of the straps and knew like most of his school gear it had seen well more than its recommended days. It had fallen through on the final weeks of his last walk on sixth year. Based on known trajectory, its time was numbered. With no funds to replace it he had spent the rest of his previous sixth year lugging his belongings around in a sheet stripped from his bedding transfigured into a knapsack. It was a situation he simply had to bear with until Lucius had taken him under his wing.

The summer leading into seventh year was the time when Lucius had agreed to be his sponsor and subsequently set about teaching Pureblood manners to the ill-kempt urchin. He had sent Snape back to Hogwarts with new sets of badly needed supplies and a whole new wardrobe. Smartly dressed and with a new graceful confidence, seventh year would have been the highlight of Snape's schooling. It would have been, had it not been for the devastating news of the ' _Gryffindor Golden Couple_.' That blasted Trelawney had once bemoaned the agony of knowing what was to happen and being unable to do a thing about it. This was the closest Snape had ever gotten to agreeing with that charlatan.

Carefully threading the buckle over his shredded bag, Snape peered broodingly up to the front row seats, ready to drive his hatred into the back of James bloody Potter's head. Instead he found Lily's expectant eyes, lit by a cheerful smile.

"I'll see you later in Potions this afternoon, Sev!" She called across the room with the most chipper of waves, then promptly stepped through the entranceway alongside a far less-chirpy blond girl.

For a moment, Snape had forgotten what he had been angry about as he stood with a dumb half-pout and a hand extended in the worst mockery of a wave this side of the British Isles.

"Smooth." Urquart muttered, prompting the scowl to return to its rightful place.

"Have you tried giving her chocolates?" Lester interjected, unhelpfully into a subject he was certainly unwelcome in.

"Look at him. Does he look like he can afford chocolates?" Urquart had a brutal tongue.

"Oh. Right…" Lester quietened for a long moment, but not long enough. "How about I spot you a box next visit to Hogsmead?"

"Absolutely not." Snape growled and stormed out of the classroom, shutting down the entire discussion behind him.

Storming down the corridors in a swirl of broody annoyance, Snape hadn't noticed the thundering strides catching up to him. It wasn't until Mulciber slowed his step right beside the fuming boy did Snape finally acknowledge the looming colossus. Of all the impact Snape had expected to have on the known Death Eaters to be, he had never expected Mulciber to respond. He did not know whether it was because the boy had been properly cowed by Snape's superior display, or if he had simply been that grateful when the smaller boy did not have him excluded after his fall, but Mulciber had stuck with him through the transition.

However, at this moment, Snape had simply been grateful that the hulking boy didn't have anything to say about his exhibit on the mortification of hormones.

"Christmas holiday is in a week." Mulciber grunted, glaring at the festively decorated suits of armour.

"Well observed." Snape grumbled, he didn't need another reminder of this idiotic festivity.

Mulciber fell silent for a moment, prompting Snape to glance upwards to see if his flippant reply had hit a nerve. Instead, he found a strange expression on that looming giant's face, almost as if the usually vacuous boy was in deep thought. Snape waited quietly, suddenly curious to hear the fruits of this rare occurrence.

"So umm..." Mulciber finally muttered. "You're not going home again this year I'm guessing." After Snape's brisk nod to the affirmative he continued. "Well, I've signed up this year too."

Slowly, Snape's scowl lessened. He turned his own thoughts carefully in his mind. Mulciber's father was a well-known Death Eater, one of the Dark Lord's first supporters and one of the leading figures of the Dark Lord's inner circle. "Are you worried about what your father might say?"

"Obviously." Mulciber mumbled, his frown darkening. Snape had always considered the boy to be rather dim, remarkable only in his cruelty. As an adult, Owen Mulciber had shown surprising talent in the Imperius curse, being able to maintain control of several high key political figures within the Ministry at once. Never once had he ever considered the boy or man within the capacity of redemption.

That, he would be truly willing to consider. A conflicting path with his own father. A conflicting path with his own destiny.

"Do what you have to do to figure it out." Snape muttered finally. "Whatever you decide, nothing will change between us until we both graduate and walk the paths we've decided on."

The hulking boy's gormless eyes met Snape's dark ones. He nodded firmly, but said not a word more.

Nobody's destinies were certain yet. Even the darkest of wizards had once been a child, with a future of possibilities seemingly limitless. The Mulciber he knew had been a dark wizard of savage unforgivable acts. This child was not yet him.

And if Snape's own dark deeds was not past redemption, if forgiveness was somehow attainable, why should it not be for a boy who had not yet touched upon his dark destiny?

* * *

Dumbledore greeted Snape warmly that Thursday before the coming holidays. Another evening spent together during their weekly post-dinner tutorial. "My, how things have changed lately." The headmaster mused with a knowing smile.

"If you regret cutting me loose from my spy work, then it's a little too late." Snape muttered dryly as he found his seat from across the great oaken desk. They had not spoken of this topic the past two sessions since the sudden dramatic shift of House dynamics. The young Slytherin had a feeling that Dumbledore might have been reserving judgement, pending results.

The headmaster's blue eyes peered over his half-moon glasses. "Why, not at all. In fact, I'm quite pleased with what you have accomplished. I had seen in your mind your efforts to reform your House as a Professor, I am certainly delighted to see you finding a similar success as a student."

Snape conceded with a nod. "Their positive response surprised me as well."

"As would the other unforeseen benefits of your success." Dumbledore added with a twinkle in his eye. "Tell me how fares your renewed friendship with Ms Evans?"

Snape flushed with a glowering scowl. He had long since suspected that Dumbledore knew of the possibility of a path back into Lily's life. Knew, and did not share. As intelligent as Severus Snape might be, he was an absolute Troll in empathy. He had taken their breaking event at face value. Thought that Lily had indeed been so mortally offended by Snape's one-off slip of the tongue, she had been willing to cut him from her life forever.

That it had been, but a single pebble upon the pile of ever building tensions between them, fuelled by the darkening path beneath a much younger Snape's feet, was something he hadn't considered. A very obvious fact now that it was laid out plainly for him, but embarrassingly elusive for his emotionally inept teen, and admittedly, adult self.

Why did he ever think she was so petty as to begrudge him simply over an ill-judged insult? An insult spat from his wounded pride in the midst of humiliating distress.

"Good to see it's put you in a good mood at least." Dumbledore quipped lightly, causing Snape's scowl to deepen.

"Enough of that." He growled. "Do not interfere with my private affairs."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it." The headmaster relented with an easy smile. As if to prove his word, he changed the subject. "I have something I wished to speak of to you today. With the break coming in two days, am I right in my understanding that you'll be staying with us here at Hogwarts?"

"In that, nothing has changed." Snape replied dryly.

Dumbledore gave a brisk nod and looked almost apologetic. "I'm glad you had taken it upon yourself to do so. I feared I might have to convince you to stay. From your memories, I had no way of knowing when Amadeus Prince had declared Voldemort's cause his beneficiary. And until I can find some way of knowing what stage of negotiations they are in, your family is still in mortal danger. I had hoped for the time being to keep you somewhere I know to be safe."

Snape leaned back with a careless motion in mimicry of a shrug. "I have no eagerness to return to my still living parents. Better still if I don't return at all."

Dumbledore gave Snape a measured look. "Is it perhaps guilt you feel?"

No probing touch graced Snape's mind, perhaps if Dumbledore had looked he'd have realise what an idiotic question that was. "I feel no guilt for their deaths."

Snape felt the whisper of a brush against the surface of his lightly occluded mind as a sudden tenseness appeared between them. He frowned as he tried to fathom what thoughts might be hidden in Dumbledore's expression. He thought he saw disappointment in the old man's eyes, perhaps a glimmer of worry.

Finally, the headmaster spoke, in a slow and measured voice. "You had told me you have left the darkness behind."

Snape bristled. Had he not made himself very clear about refusing to re-tread his old path?

"Why is it then," Dumbledore continued, still calmly, "that you do not feel remorse for having a hand in your own parent's death?"

Snape felt a more insistent prod against the surface of his mind. With an angry flick of his mental shields, he swatted Dumbledore's Legilimency away, not willing to indulge his probing curiosity on this topic. "I do not have to answer to you about _them_." He hissed.

"But... They are your parents Severus." What was that old man insisting? That because they had spawned him that he should care about their welfare regardless of whether they cared about his? To care unconditionally? Was that what it meant to be walking amongst the light?

That was not who Snape was.

"I did not care about their deaths." He hissed. "And I would not care if they died again!"

Dumbledore stared at him, true judgement within his deep blue eyes. But of course, he would not understand.

Those with loving parents never understood.

Snape stood without another word and swept from the room, leaving a silent Dumbledore with a darkened frown.

* * *

Packing for the Christmas holidays, there was an air of finality to the ritual. Once, Lily might have started weeks ahead of the break, but after five years' worth of travelling back and forth, she knew what she had to pack and could do it in an afternoon beforehand.

Ordinarily, a fairly straight forward affair for the muggle-born witch, but this time, she simply didn't have her head in the game. She caught herself folding up a summer blouse to bring along, a certainly unneeded article for the blustery weather of the Midlands. In fact, most clothing was superfluous as she had plenty stored at home. Her comfortable cotton pyjama set was honestly the only set of wearables she had to bring, and this time, she'd better remember to bring them back again. Lily had hated her scratchy woollen set and no doubt by now it was covered in cat hairs. Pandora's abusive black cat Achilles had appropriated Lily's woollen pyjamas for his basket, and Lily had allowed him to. It had been a small price to pay to buy some peace with that militant feline.

But now, she was not so eager to be rid of it. Her mother had bought her that woollen set…

Lily sat for a moment still, stewing in guilt over her ingratitude. She still missed her mother dearly, and though the girl had long since passed the point where she grieved bitterly for her dear mum's passing, long past the point where fond memories of her could send her into random fits of giggles and moody wallowing, she still found her mother's presence still persisting in little snippets of her life.

Like that bundle of itchy wool that was meant to be her winter pyjamas. With a wistful smile, Lily swiped it from Achille's basket and after a quick scourging charm she switched it with her cotton set. She'll probably never get used to the texture but she didn't feel like this year she could bring herself to leave it behind. Perhaps she'll bring back a woollen blanket as a peace offering for the feline who'll no doubt suspect Lily of the reappropriation.

Into the luggage went the pyjamas, along with a toothbrush and some hobby reading material. Pandora had made good on her promise and lent her a large tome on the principles of Enchantment. It had turned out to be a far more interesting read than anticipated and she looked forward to finishing it over the break. Her textbooks went into the packing too, but only the Transfiguration ones. McGonagall left an abundance of homework that morning despite being the last class of the holidays. Though Charms and Potions left a foot of writing each, Lily had forced herself to complete them during the course of the week. During the Thursday, just yesterday, she actually wound up running into Sev again in the library after lunch. He had roughly the same idea about getting homework over and done with it seemed and she found herself settling into the rhythm of blissful efficiency. As was the norm when studying with him.

He was that sort of best friend, the kind that would make sure you stayed focused and your work gets done. The exact opposite of Marlene.

A shiver of guilt passed through Lily. An irrational guilt for choosing a second best friend when she thought she had lost Sev. He had always been jealous of her friendships, possessive of her singular attention. How he would react if he found out she had replaced him so quickly…

Perhaps he would understand? He seemed far more mature now. But that nervous lump sat in her throat, not at all convinced by her own reasoning. She wanted to keep both as best friends, and Marlene couldn't give a flying whoop over how many Lily had. Perhaps she'll simply not tell him. A squirm of guilt shot through Lily at the thought of rebuilding their friendship on a bedrock of deceit.

It felt strange being around him again. She had hoped they'd click like before. Like no time or nastiness had passed between them, but something had irrevocably changed. No longer did he slump, hiding his face behind his curtain of hair. He stood straight and spoke calmly and evenly. He now had a confidence about him. Though still garbed in the rags of his poverty, he held himself now like a rich man. But this confidence trickled away in her presence.

Lily sighed, closing the zip on her half-packed travel bag. It was a strange situation now, where everything was in reverse. Once, he had told her the only place he felt truly comfortable was by her side. She believed him, seeing as only with her was he ever calm, collected and confident. He shirked away from contact with strangers, he refused to talk to any of Lily's other friends, he couldn't even make eye contact with the teachers or any of the adults in their life. Even when she had him over for dinner, he'd only ever mumble short replies to her parents and would never look up from his plate.

But somehow in the span of the six months, they were apart he had grown up into an almost unrecognisable young man. A change so drastic she almost thought it carried over even to his physical appearance, despite not being able to name a single article of difference. If she was to venture a guess she'd think his eyes changed, somehow. They were still the deepest of ink black, little pits staring out from the dark shadows of his sunken sockets. Those were still his eyes, but why did it feel… different?

Lily shook herself out of her compounding imaginings. Thoughts like that came to her more and more often now that he was back in her life. Thoughts that she had initially attributed to over-thinking. She saw the difference because she was expecting to find differences and it became harder and harder to rationalise. That greed filled beady stare he used to fix her when he thought she didn't notice was gone, replaced by an almost wistful disbelief, as if he couldn't believe she stood before him, that she was talking to him again. That she forgave him. When he spoke, it was with the utmost polite formality, an almost caution in his tone as if he feared one misspeak could ruin it all.

As if their friendship was some tenuous fragile thing.

As if he believed she made her decision to part with him lightly.

But perhaps she had, if she had never noticed his determination to break free. How could this be the same boy she once believed with certainty that would come to stand against everything that she was?

With a flick of her wand, Lily sent her half-packed duffle bag sliding neatly under her bed. If she packed while she was half-baked, she was certain to bollocks things up. The Gryffindor girl had already almost forgot to lay the cushioning charm around the magical four-season snow globe she bought from Hogsmeade as a Christmas present for her father. She was too distracted by her thoughts, too unsettled by her worries.

What if things change again when they part?

What if everything they were rebuilding crumbled away?

What if six months apart was too large a divide to mend?

She had planned to leave saying her goodbyes till after dinner but it seemed prudent to alter her plans.

* * *

 _The Slytherins sure seem different._ Lily thought as a young Slytherin boy dashed off down the corridor to deliver her message. She had been loitering at the Dungeon entrance, hoping to catch Sev if he came up for air. It was a long shot, but the alternative was taking the risk of venturing down into Slytherin territory.

While she stood by the entrance, debating to herself the quandary, a young Slytherin emerged from the tunnel. She decided to take a gamble of speaking to him, and it turned out she needn't have worried. He introduced himself as the fourth year Rawkas, the boy who took a beating for her Sev, and he was not at all adverse about the idea of taking a message to him.

Within minutes, that familiar thin boy emerged from the darkened corridor, walking his unfamiliar limber stride. Without his stooping, he really seemed much taller, but perhaps his skeletal figure also contributed to that illusion. She had never seen him so skinny, and he had a good three months at Hogwarts to put weight back on. It must have been quite the harsh Summer Break.

"Hey, Sev." Lily greeted cheerfully as the boy dipped his head shyly in greeting. "Got time? Wanted to hang out with you before I leave for Christmas break."

He answered with a quick, almost eager nod. With a flick of her head, she indicated for him to follow as she led him up the stairs to the first floor, towards the little hidden alcove. That little spot was one of the little secrets they discovered together in their first year of exploration. He hadn't been as enamoured by the discovery as she had been and Lily had long since adopted it as her favourite solo haunt, just as he adopted the dungeon potion labs as his. She wondered if he still remembered it.

But just as that thought passed her mind, she noticed his eyes light up with recognition on their walk down that first floor corridor. They paced up the hall, his head turned slightly as he scanned the outer wall for the irregularities that marked the alcove. Reaching out his long thin fingers, Sev tested a patch of stonework and found his fingers dipping through.

Lily shot him an encouraging smile as she stepped through into the frosty gloom of that poorly lit alcove. The lack of light had been the weakness of this room, it only had small window slits to let in a trickle of what was on offer outside. It was set in the East side of the castle so it really only got light during the morning hours, and whatever little afternoon light it was supposed to get was swallowed by the snowy winter's day.

A gentle glow appeared suddenly to brighten the chamber from within. Severus had stepped through and responded to this issue immediately and practically. A ball of light floated before him, conjured from the tip of his wand. With a swift flick, he sent it above them to float near the centre of the sloped ceiling, casting its gentle light about the room in a mimicry of winter light.

"A spell of your invention, Sev?" Lily asked with a delighted smile.

"Just a simple modification of a Lumos." He replied most enigmatically as he stowed his wand. Her Sev was a most creative soul, he had been inventing spells for as long as she knew him. No matter her own natural talent in the craft, it took someone like him for there to be a craft to learn at all.

"Well?" She drew her wand. "Share with the class."

Without hesitation, he drew again his wand. "The incantation is _Lumos Iacto_." He traced his wand in that same familiar loop as the base Lumos spell and conjured another ball of light.

" _Lumos Iacto_." Lily repeated as she traced her wand along that path. She felt the magic respond, and before her eyes the light that ought to have formed on the tip of her wand bent outwards into a brightly lit orb. She flicked it from her wand in an attempt to cast it alongside Severus' but she overshot and sent the ball splattering against the ceiling. Light danced down the stonework as little sparkles rained down on top of them.

"It's beautiful." She muttered, little light wisps of light imprinted streaks along her sight. "You really are brilliant, Sev."

"I didn't actually invent this." He muttered almost sheepishly.

He must have simply read ahead in some advanced charms textbook again. Or more likely, simply remembered a part in the basics charms text that she hadn't. Lily could totally see herself skipping over a chapter and missing this spell. "Hmm? Doesn't matter. Still brilliant."

With a most casual motion, the Gryffindor girl settled herself on the bench under the slit like window and patted the seat beside her. Sev stalked over, not inelegantly, and cautiously settled himself a distance from her, seemingly conscious about his movement. It bothered Lily to no bounds to see him act so.

The hem of his short robes rode up, revealing his ill-fitting trouser legs. She could see his loose socks hanging downwards, laying his ankles bare to the winter chill. And chill winter did. The wind direction was just right to send the occasional small puffs of snowflakes raining upon them.

"You feeling okay?" Lily asked, cringing at the caution in her own voice. Sev's hesitant distance was starting to bleed into her. "You must be cold."

Severus shook his head. "Heating charm." Was all his reply entailed.

Lily reached over, causing him to startle suddenly at her touch upon his hand. She almost jerked back in surprise, the tension in the air was palpable. This was not how their relationship was supposed to be. "I was just checking that you're warm. Geez. What's with the nerves, Sev?"

He turned away, shame worn plainly upon his downcast face. "Sorry. It's just been so long… I've forgotten how to speak with you."

"Way to be dramatic." With almost forced humour, Lily rolled her eyes. "It's only been six months."

He swung around about suddenly and fixed her with those dark shadowed eyes. A shiver passed through her as she thought she saw in ho, almost despairing desperation. As if he wanted to tell her something, but could not find the words to. "It… felt longer." He finally choked out and fell silent again.

With a long and ruffled sigh, Lily reached over and pulled the awkward boy into a hug. She felt him tense at her touch but she did not let go. "I missed you alright?" She muttered, resting her chin against his bony shoulder blade. "And I really like the person you've become." She felt his tension slowly unravel, his hot palms press against her back, holding her tightly against him. He had always been hesitant to hug so he sucked at it at the best of times, but somehow now his embrace felt like the grasping of drowning man. "So unless you're lying about not becoming a servant of evil, I don't want to leave your side again."

"I won't." He quickly replied. She could feel his hot breath down her neck. She released him from the embrace and leaned back with a gentle push. His hands retreated and hovered awkwardly in front of him. "I won't." He insisted again, dark eyes burning brightly in the shadows of his sunken sockets. "I promise."

A smile teased its way across Lily's lips. "I'm holding you to that."

He nodded in a steady motion. A sure motion. However, hesitant of himself around her, he at least stood firmly by his own promise. She could feel his sincerity kindling the hope that things will get better in time.

She reached forward and took his hands in her own. "Keep well. I'm going to miss you over the holidays."

"You're leaving?" His widening of eyes told Lily he hadn't meant for those words to slip out. "I mean of course you're leaving. You visit your family every break." He mumbled, trailing off.

She raised one arching brow. "And you'll be staying. Like you always do. Good. Now that we've established status quo, I think it's time we wished each other happy holidays."

"Right." He muttered, dark eyes flickering as his brows pinched together. "Have a happy… Christmas." From him, it sounded more like a concession than a well wish.

She leaned in to give his hand one last quick squeeze. "Merry Christmas, Sev. Take care of yourself over the break." She stood and pulled him to his feet, watching him straighten to his full height to stand just above her. "We'll catch up again after the break ok? It'll be just like old times."

A strange glimmer shone from behind his black eyes, an expression she couldn't quite fathom. Lily smiled and released his hands, and with a small wave, she stepped back. She resolved none of her niggling issues today, she hadn't found the courage to speak to him of it all. Of how things changed in her life, how she had a new best friend, the death of her mother.

Of how she didn't want to let go of him or James Potter.

* * *

Before the sun had broken over the low cloud cover, carriages were already gathered before the castle steps. With great impatient brays, the Thestrals waited in their straps, their black feathers catching the light of the grey winter's dawn.

Severus Snape stood hidden in the shadow of the Entrance Hall steps, standing knee deep in the snow and enveloped in heating charms. Despite not being part of the cohort of leaving students, he took the effort of prising himself out of his warm covers early before the sun had graced the Scottish peaks in the hopes of catching one last glimpse of Lily before the holidays. He could not help but scowl at how pathetically desperate this all seemed.

It had only been three weeks since Lily forgave him, three weeks since she had met with him on speaking terms. He was certain she did not need him hounding her. After all, it had only been six months for her, not the lifetime it had been for him.

He leant heavily against the staircase, his heating charm melting the small layer of snow that wedged in the irregularities of the stonework, he felt it seep sneakily into his thinning school robes. Even during the holidays he would still elect to wear his uniform over the muggle garbage he was saddled with.

With a self-deprecating scowl, Snape huffed a sigh. His breath forming in a small white puff and lingered in the still frigid air. If he was forced to relive this life then he'd do so without Lucius' support. This meant an extra year of this lingering poverty, another year with making do with less. With practically nothing.

But for the sake of having Lily look upon him again with something, anything other than disappointment…

Endure. That was what his life had been up till this point. That was how his life had always been. It will be how his life continues, but this time he would be able to live with himself. She was alive, and he was not beyond redemption. That was more than he could have ever asked for.

The first sounds of activity jolted Snape out of his musing. The muted sounds of chatter, the softened taps of footsteps descending from the snow-dusted steps. Carefully, Snape edged around to find a covered view of the receiving carriages. A trio of young Hufflepuffs were the first to arrive, mounting the carriage steps to enter snugly into the warmth of enchantments. The impatient Thestral gave a back curling stretch and set off in a brisk trot, clearing the receiving spot for another Thestral carriage to take.

Snape slumped back against the wall, his own sensibilities reasoning with him to simply return to his warm dorm and avoid any awkwardness the discovery of his presence might cause. It would be the most galling affair if the Marauders found him, as they always seemed to be able to do.

Unfortunately for him, worst case scenarios always seemed to have a higher priority in his stack of cards. His first warning had been the heavy crunching of snow.

Decades of living on edge had brought Snape's reflexes tuned upon a razor wire. He spun around towards the sound, wand already in hand, searching the snow for irregularities. His sharp eyes immediately caught the deep furrowing pits within the knee deep snow, the pits that dug a path around the edge of the castle towards him.

Invisibility cloak.

Snape snarled and shot a blast of frigid air towards the encroaching unseeable, attempting to unsettle that devil-blessed cloak. A ripple of colour appeared against the bleaching white, his blast had missed but caused the ripple to part the concealment briefly. He glared at that spot, readying his spell to strip away the mantel.

Hands appeared suddenly, held up in a placating gesture, and a face followed it from within the folds of nothingness. A bespectacled face of the last person he ever wanted to see, appeared.

"Whoa there Snape. I'm unarmed." James Potter called out, his hands held out from his cloak of invisibility as if proving a point. Snape, however, would not lower his wand. He trusted nothing the boy said.

"Just makes it easier to be rid of you." He snarled, pupils narrowed to pin points. He gripped the handle of his wand so tightly his knuckles popped.

With a careful motion, the approaching boy removed his invisibility cloak and draped the silvery artefact over his arm. His non-dominant arm, Snape noticed. "Now. I know I haven't given you much reason to trust, but to be fair neither have you. So if you just lower your wand, we can both give each other the benefit of the doubt."

Struck temporarily mute with rage, Snape's tongue warred with itself on the dozens of intricate ways to deliver to Potter the directions of where to shove his benefit of the doubt. But that momentary hesitation was all it took to convince the blasted boy to make himself right at home in Snape's cosy shadowed corner.

"I didn't say you could approach!" Snape snarled, he felt the freezing wall press to his back. He waved his wand threateningly to ward the boy away, but it appeared Potter had wizened up to Snape's feint. It was no longer in Snape's nature to attack first.

"I just want to talk, Snape. I swear." Potter insisted, hands still raised.

"Well I don't!"

Despite the travel pack clasped on his back, Potter had obviously chosen not to patronage the front door. Utilising instead one of the many secret passages connecting the castle to the grounds. How the boy figured out where Snape was lying in wait was another mystery of its own.

Once in the Professor's youth, he had been convinced of serious foul play. It was as if the blasted brats had placed some form of surveillance on him that he could not dispel. Now, however, he knew better than to suspect the supernatural, he simply kept a careful eye out for rats. But oddly, none were to be seen this frigid dawn morning.

Potter simply shrugged and ran his hand through his obnoxiously messy hair. "Well, unless you hex me, I'm going to talk anyway." Snape was sourly tempted to do so. "What you said three weeks ago, about leading the Slytherins away from You-Know-Who. Were you speaking the truth?"

"Why, Potter? Finding it hard to justify assaulting me?"

The boy shrugged, an almost apologetic gesture. "So do you?"

"Yes." Snape hissed. "And your little stunt almost ruined everything!"

"Right. Sorry about that."

"Sorry? Just sorry? After everything you put me through, _just_ sorry?"

Potter ruffled the back of his hair with a sheepish look on his face. "Yeah… Well, can't help the past I suppose. So start over?" He reached his hand out, to which Snape blinked stupidly at for a good ten seconds before it dawned on him that James Bloody Potter wanted a handshake.

"Oh no. We are not _**just peachy**_ over everything." Snape hissed, outraged that this brute, his eternal tormentor, would have the gall to believe his transgressions forgiven so easily.

"Right. But we're no longer enemies." Potter thrust his hand out more insistently.

"That does not make us friends!"

On hindsight, Snape realised he should not have shouted that so loudly. Students had begun to trickle into the awaiting carriages, and it was just his luck among those who heard him was one he did not wish to enter this scenario.

Green eyes peered curiously over the stair railing, her hair cascading downwards, framing her face in a halo of red. "James?"

 _Oh great, its James now._

Snape swept his eyes from side to side, searching for a way out of this mortifying scenario. But like a bad dream, Lily noticed him flattened against the wall under her chin. Her eyes widened at the sight of these two mortal enemies standing in proximity with one another, with no sign of bloodshed or trauma. And with Potter, reached out in what could only unmistakably be a conciliatory gesture.

Of all the mortifying scenarios to be caught in.

With a squeak of delight, Lily rushed down the stairs and took both of their hands in her own, joining them together in a three way hand hold. Potter looked awfully pleased with himself as Snape fought every wave of revulsion at the thought of touching the vile boy. They were not square. Far from it.

Snape yanked his hand from the three way clasp and found those bright green eyes fall on him, the delight fading from their shining pools. He mentally kicked himself as Lily's smile waned.

"Sorry." He muttered as he turned away. This was not how he wanted to send her off for the holidays. Why was he always upsetting her? Why couldn't he just make her happy?

Potter extended his hand again, apparently getting rejected for a handshake was not something he was willing to accept. The arrogant boy, in any other situation, Snape would have never indulged him.

But this was no longer about Potter.

Fighting the rising bile, Snape deliberately extended his hand and grasped the offered in a firm shake, fighting the vitriol that threatened to choke him. Lily's eyes lit up like wand light in their alcove, a heady smile stretched uncontrolled across her face.

With a whoop, she lunged forward and brought the two boys together in a hug. Snape's entire body rebelled in confusion, his delight at Lily's touch warring with revulsion at being shoulder to shoulder with James Bloody Potter.

With a breathless grin, Lily finally stepped back, releasing the two boys. "This is the best Christmas present anyone could have got me!"

"Ah, well. Merry Christmas then, Lily." James shot her a devilish grin and ruffled his hair. To Snape's dismay, she did not roll her eyes at the boy's preening display but beamed right back.

She then turned her radiant smile on the slowly withering boy. "I'll see you after Christmas Sev." She bubbled, and it took all he had to return her half a smile. It seemed, however, that was all she needed to complete her day as she beamed radiantly and hopped off to board an empty carriage.

"Well. Be seeing you then, Snape." Potter farewelled as well with a polite nod. And to Snape's dropping heart, the boy strode over to the very same carriage and stepped in.

In silence, the lone Slytherin watched as the cart pulled away, the dread of what was coming whispering in his mind. Foreknowledge was a blessing and a curse, Trelawney had once said. Once more he wished that blasted woman had simply kept her mouth shut.

* * *

A/N: Oh Lily, how naïve you are. A grail of optimism she is. Kids with golden lives also tend to never understand.

A thank you to my Beta readers Caleo Ignacium and Sattwa100 for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 28th July 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 13: Glimpse into Darkness**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	13. Glimpse into Darkness

**Chapter 13: Glimpse into Darkness**

Two weeks of festive break passed slowly and Snape spent most of it avoiding the other examples of life, living or dead. Apart from the several attempts to teach Mulciber Wizard Chess with an old chess set left behind by Avery, Snape spent most of his time alone and seeking mental stimulation. Homework was finished within the first day of the break and the rest was spent simply finding busywork. Fortunately he had alchemy.

He threw himself furiously into the study, earning a firm grasp of the base principles. A complex affair in itself. Potion craft and Transfiguration combined to overcome the limitations of the other. A seemingly impossible notion at first, until he realised he already had a firm understanding of what was expected from the potioneering aspect.

Golpalott's Third Law of Antidote brewing had been a principle stemming from the alchemical arts. As a student, that had been the only topic in this subject that did not come instinctively to Snape. That had forced the boy to actually buckle down and apply himself, slowly and painstakingly taking apart the concept and analysing every aspect of it. Upon reflection, Snape was glad he had been forced to learn it that way.

Its core principle had been to coax out a hidden property in the compound toxins used in a blended poison through the addition of one single ingredient that would transform the poison into its own antidote. Essentially inverting the very properties of the ingredients that formed it. The concept had been outlandish in principle, but basic in execution. The brewer needing simply to have a sample of the poison in its pure form, and to add the necessary ingredients in a scaled dose. No incantations or focus stones necessary.

But Snape now understood. Spagyric principles of alchemy proved the basics of the whole topic and was far simpler than its inorganic forms. Whereas potion ingredients ordinarily held several compounds of known and of hidden properties, that being the entire principle of potion brewing, a lump of copper had no discernible place in the art apart from forming the container in which the potion is brewed in.

That was where transmutation came to the fore. The manipulation of one substance into another. Whereas Spagyric methods had plants forcing to exhibit a property that should be impossible for it to have, transmutative alchemy changed one substance fundamentally into another substance in its entirety. An idea claimed impossible by Gamp's Laws of Transfiguration.

The idea was to start with a base material of a higher molecular weight than the substance the alchemist is trying to create. That was why lead was the universal material, the heaviest of all the stable elements. From there, the reagent would be broken down into its molecular form, a similar state to its liquid phase, but without the application of energy in the form of heat.

It was an art in itself, the ability to hold the substance in its liquid state, when every molecule was fighting to revert into a solid structure. It had to be done, while maintaining safety wards upon the caster to avoid accidental poisoning, as well as the second application of transmutative magic. A transmutation spell designed to be casted wordlessly, aimed for the very building blocks of a molecule.

The atom. An extreme manipulation of the substance form, one that it cannot revert from.

With the entire being of the substance warring against this perversion of its structure, a catalyst was necessary to tip the scales to the alchemist's favour. That was the function of the runic table, and to a far larger degree, Focus Stones. These catalysts lowered the magical threshold one needed to overcome the transmute of the substrates and also increase the yield of the resulting product. These were placed within a dip set into the meridian of the runic tables, designed for this very purpose. The table then takes on the property of the stone, allowing for every spell the alchemist works upon to touch the magical catalyst.

Of course, the amount of magic supplied to the transmutation depended entirely on the alchemist, and no amount of firm grasp of theory could compensate for that.

Snape scowled at the small lump of copper sitting upon his rune inscribed table. He knew his weakness and dedicated himself wholeheartedly to trying to overcome it. His inability to efficiently apply his transmutation spells without his wand.

Though Snape was able to wandless cast basic spells, it had never been a specialisation of his. Through practice, he was able to bludgeon a firm grasp of wandless counter-spells for his own personal defensive purposes, but he had the weakest notion of even the most basic of transmutation or charms. Any attempts he's ever made with wandless spell casting in those fields had always been small in scale and never achieved much range beyond his person.

It had become apparent to Snape, within the first few attempts to do a basic matchstick to needle transmutation wandlessly, that it would not be the solution for him. Even with a wand, he was unable to cast with his left hand, his non-wand-hand, that hand that he needed to perform the far more difficult concept of microtransfiguration.

No, it would not do. He had no natural talents in secondary magical manipulation. His magical abilities were firmly rooted in their well-practiced path, which was through the wand grasped firmly in his right hand, and he would simply have to find ways to refine a technique for himself.

With a drawn sigh, Snape waved his wand and drew another dollop of lead from the block stored in the alchemical supplies cupboard block, taking great care with the toxic substance. His first attempts had all found some semblance of success, a complex single-handed juggling technique. Perhaps through practice, he could make that transmutative style his own.

But even as he brushed the crumb of copper that resulted from his latest attempt off onto the floor, he recognised how far less efficient his attempts were. He simply did not have the magical dexterity, nor the transfigurative mastery, to juggle both spells and maintain his casting strength.

Snape leaned back in his seat, staring blankly towards the stone ceiling. This was a craft that was able to create life itself and yet here he sat struggling to form a lump of copper.

The logical step to take would be to seek out Dumbledore and take advantage of his alchemy tutorials for once. The headmaster was still in Hogwarts, and though classes were not in session, he was certain his tutorial times was still available during their scheduled slots.

Unfortunately, Snape simply could not bring himself to go.

Their last session had rattled the old headmaster, and after passing through the initial haze of indignation, Snape found himself disconcerted by the disappointment he earned. Dumbledore had not looked upon him with such judgement since he had started his path of redemption over sixteen years ago.

That Dumbledore knew as well the fate of Tobias and Eileen Snape. He knew, but never passed judgement. Snape's past could not be changed, the old man had said, and told him the only thing left was to find a way to make amends and move forward. But no matter how Snape tried, he could never stop holding tightly to his past.

This Dumbledore should have been the same man, but for whatever reason, his ways of dealing with the same knowledge was different. It baffled the younger man as to why this was so. Was a Dumbledore of wartime truly that different to one who had known over a decade of peace?

The dark deeds that Snape had once committed in the name of the Dark Lord were actions he would ever repeat. The fact that he hated his parents did not change that. But if they had to die again, and the plans of the Dark Lord had not yet been disrupted, then this was an inevitable event. Far be it for him to risk exposure and cost them the war for the mere chance to change their fates. Dumbledore had called for far greater sacrifices in the past, why would he balk now at one willingly given? He even went so far as to accuse Snape of not divorcing himself from the darkness.

Was it simply because Snape had accepted his own role in killing his parents? The headmaster should have seen in the memories he was given that Snape had been down right merciful, especially compared to the cruelty Death Eaters were capable of.

That night, mere months after his graduation, Snape, garbed in black, his white mask affixed to his thin face had returned to his home on Spinner's End. Midnight had rolled past and not a soul was awake in the household. It had been a simple matter to charm the lock open and step silently into the dark, still household.

The creaking of the steps had fallen silent under the power of the boy's command, his steps landing swiftly yet softly. Brushing open the bedroom door he had found his mother asleep, a woman who he could not remember ever looking upon him warmly. A mother who had never bothered to see to his health or heart, abandoning him in every sense of the world.

She had died peacefully in her sleep.

With nearly careless haste, Snape had sought his father. It had not taken him long to find the brute of a man, he simply followed his nose. The odour of stale beer had lead him to the lounge room, where the fat bastard had passed out on the couch, surrounded by empty beer bottles. With a flick of the wand, Snape conjured a bright light and a sharp bang, startling the man from his slumber.

He had not been allowed to die peacefully in his sleep.

Instead, Snape had ensured the man's fearful round eyes were upon him as he slowly removed the mask. He had sneered cruelly as his father's eyes widened in recognition.

The last image he had taken with him to the beyond was of his own son, before the all-claiming flash of green.

Snape had since reflected upon these murders. He recognised that he had been in a bad place mentally. The fact that he did not punish himself for these actions was not the same as being willing to commit them again.

He found punishment enough for the role he played in Lily's death, and that alone was enough to deter him from the darkness forever.

With an almost savage shake, Snape brought himself out of the directions of his thoughts. He knew where it would lead him and could not be more eager to distract himself with the impossible riddle of transmutation.

He would have to face Dumbledore again eventually, but until the old man summoned him, Snape would not force the encounter. He did not relish having to explain to the headmaster the reasoning of his calm acceptance, or the events behind his actions. Explanations that was sure to be required of him upon their next encounter.

* * *

The Sunday after New Year's, Lily returned to Hogwarts. Ordinarily she'd arrive on the Saturday but as that had been on New Year's Day, she had left it a day later than usual. She hadn't want to leave her father alone on that day, not since Petunia had refused to return from London for the holidays again. Lily hadn't seen her sister since her mother's funeral and she was torn between feeling relieve at being given this reprieve and a little melancholic about how small her family felt now. It had never been Christmas with just her and her father before now. Neither of them said a word on the subject, but they both felt her mother's absence keenly. Especially when father and daughter sat alongside each other for their Christmas dinner.

Then all too soon, Lily had to leave. Departing from the now quiet household in which her father remained alone. She resolved to write to him more often. There was nothing worse than the feeling of loneliness and solitude.

Lily sighed as she unpacked her travel bag and dumped the contents unceremoniously onto the bed. A muggle pen lay among the contents, a present her father had gifted her for Christmas. He called it a "Bespoke", a brand of muggle fountain pen. He had often complained about how inefficient the wizard writing methods were compared to the developments in the muggle world and had made it a tradition to gift her with a new pen every year.

Lily could not deny its efficiency compared to its wizarding equivalent of quill and inkwell, a practice phased out many a centuries past, and rightfully so. But despite its obvious advantages, she could not bring herself to use the muggle tool at school. She did not want to stand out as the only student who did not use a quill and suggest she lacked an ability with the quill as she had when she first came into this world many years ago. She was not by any means ashamed of her heritage, and would quite gladly wear her muggle clothing about on weekends and on outings. But ultimately, she wanted to be a witch. She wanted acceptance into this world. She didn't want to be different. She didn't want to feel like she couldn't do what everyone else could.

With a sigh, Lily shut the fine fountain pen into a drawer, alongside five other specimens of equally fine craftsmanship. She would still use them for convenience on occasions when she had to do some writing in the comfort of her dorm. Her roommates never thought much of it, except Pandora. The girl had been quite taken by the revolutionary concept of a quill that did not need an inkwell, and upon being told it was muggle technology, she had immediately set about writing to her grandfather to ask for one on her birthday.

Lily glanced over to the curious witch, perched upon her bed and scribbling away with her own muggle pen. A common biro, which the girl kept with no less delight. It must be nice to be able to live without a scrap of self-conscious worry.

"Finishing homework as well, Dora?" Marlene called from the floor beneath her bed. She had to lay the inkwell on the floor to get any writing done in the dorm. Pens really were far more convenient.

Pandora shook her head. "Oh no. Just adding an address to a letter for Aunt Minnie."

Susan, their fifth roommate popped her head out from the drawn curtains of her bed. "Why do you need to do that? Talk to her at her office."

"Oh, I don't want to disturb her."

Lily glanced at the curious girl quizzically. "But it's important enough to warrant a letter?"

"Oh. Well see, that Slytherin Urquart had asked me to deliver this letter to her and didn't want to do it himself. I hadn't planned on seeing her until Friday so I thought I'd properly address the letter and have an owl deliver it. It seemed most prudent."

That piqued Susan's interest. "Oooh, what is it about?" She was a terrible gossip.

"Just his uncle sending his season's greetings." Pandora answered airily, before returning to her writing with a flourish of her biro.

It was strange feeling to have such casual contact with the Slytherins. Not long ago, association with any member of that House was met with intense scrutiny and disapproval. But now, even in train carriages, Lily began to see spots of green among mingling yellows, blues and reds. Younger ones mostly, the ones most eager to embrace their new House Order. Snape had done something truly wonderful.

Speaking of Snape, she looked forward to seeing him again. It had only been two weeks this time, but that was long enough for her to miss the new and wonderful him. The boy who matured so quickly in the span of six months that he was almost unrecognisable.

Lily rooted around in her bag for a small brightly wrapped parcel. It had been a while since she had gifted him a birthday present, because whenever she did he was always so reluctant to accept it. She knew he didn't have the money to reciprocate on her birthday and he never welcomed that reminder.

But this year was different, he was turning seventeen. It was the most important birthday in every Witch and Wizard's life. She was not going to leave it unremarked. Especially now that she knew she was not going to lose him.

* * *

Transmutation of plant substances. That was something Snape had not thought possible before he started Alchemy. He sat in his first alchemy class of the New Year, learning how to do something he had long been assured impossible by the basic laws of transfiguration. A potion ingredient cannot be transfigured to take the place of another.

But he sat there now, no longer a disbeliever, he pulled together the loose molecules of what used to be Asphodel, directing the newly transmuted particles into their new form. A loose pile of goop sat before him, completely unlike the biological substance he had started with, but not convincingly like the substance he had tried to create.

"Well student? How was your attempt?" Flamel peered curiously.

"It does not look like… Xanthorrhoea." With a disheartened glower the student poked at the formless mush.

"Alright. You are not much of a sculptor. But enough of how it looks, test its properties. As an excelling student of potioneering, surely you know what to look for."

With quick muttering taps, Snape cast the spell of analysis. He hadn't expected to receive much feedback from the distinctly non-plant like substance, but to his surprise, a myriad of information assaulted his mind.

"It's Xanthorrhoea." He confirmed with a satisfied smirk. "Whether it is actually a useable potion substitute is another matter however."

A gentle smile formed around those golden eyes. "Had you formed it into the bristle-like shapes of its flowers counterpart, you'd have found the properties react as the real substance would have. As it is, you've created essentially a most evenly mashed paste of the flower, far finer than any potioneer would actually be able to make it. Its abundance of surface area makes it much too reactive to be of any use as a substitute for the actual ingredient in any given recipe."

With a grimace, Snape leant back. "So essentially, now there's another third stage of this transmutation process I'll have to mind."

"Getting difficult to do with the incorrect technique isn't it?"

"I had never doubted your claims, Professor."

With a smile, Flamel clasped his hands across his knees. "Well unless there's any other questions, Mr. Snape, our lesson ends here."

Stopping mid-pack, Snape glanced up at the ancient alchemist across the two-way mirror. "Actually, I do have questions."

Flamel's smile widened. "It is good to engage with an inquisitive mind. Ask away."

"I understand the Focus Stone's function as a catalyst for the microtransfiguration process, but I wonder if it's possible to create one for the phase-shift transfiguration as well."

A quirk of the lips answered Snape's inquiry. "Looking for shortcuts in the wrong places, I see."

"I'm just exploring my options."

Flamel ran his fingers along the silver strands of his beard. "Hmm. Our lesson on the creation of Focus Stones will be discussed soon. Perhaps after that, you can tell me."

That was as good as an answer of 'no.' Snape scowled as he turned back to his packing.

"That answer did not please you I see." Flamel prodded gently.

It did not. Snape had never met failure on an academic level before. "Why hadn't dual casting been a starting requirement of this subject?" He muttered.

"Why?" Flamel leant in. "Do you believe everyone that comes into the topic are naturally ambidextrous casters?"

"No, but nor do I believe everyone that comes into the topic leaves an alchemist."

"Practice, Mr Snape. That is all that stands between you and results. And if in the end you find it still stubbornly eludes you, remember, this is a most difficult subject. There is no shame in failure."

Perhaps not for the average student, but for a man whose only asset had always been his intelligence and ability, it was a crying shame.

"Besides, it is not just transmutative ability that ensures a passing grade upon your final exam. I think you'll find your dedication to theory makes you a formidable alchemist. In your own right. There are many who simply specialise in the Spagyric arts."

"I'd rather have all my options open to me." Snape muttered, somewhat belligerently.

"Don't we all." Flamel returned with a smile. "Then keep applying yourself, dear student. We shall see, won't we?"

* * *

The break could have afforded a great step backwards to the progress of the House, with how many Slytherins returning to the spheres of their family ideals over the break. It had been a cautious week for Snape, watching the progress of his charges but slowly, that caution turned to optimism as he realised most of the Slytherins who had received the change positively had continued their course. Though Travers and Wilkes returned in seemingly far higher spirits, Snape's number of opponents had not actually increased.

It was a better result than he could have initially hoped for.

He was able to shed the stress briefly in this regard, and thus, was able to dedicate himself wholeheartedly to his second source. His alchemical conundrum. Snape had spent every spare hour in his alchemical laboratory since his lesson on Thursday, intent on finding a way to master the craft.

That was how Lily had found him that Sunday, in the midst of his fifth attempt of the copper transmutation.

"Not disturbing anything am I?" She asked without so much as a knock.

Snape stood with a scramble. He had forgotten Lily had told him she was coming to see him this day. The lead mass he had been in the midst of microtransfiguring, shrunk and solidified into a scatter of copper dust. He grimaced at the wasted effort and shuffled awkwardly on the spot, pulled uselessly at the wrinkles that formed upon his robes after hours of sitting in that single position.

"You're looking glum. Anything happened?"

"No. Nothing." He answered quickly, fighting back the scowl that came with his frustration. Lily peered at him, unconvinced. Her hands were clasped behind her, staring at him inquisitively.

"Honestly, I'm fine." He muttered insincerely as he brushed the crumbs of copper away.

Those green eyes peered insistently up at him, causing his gut to squirm. With creeping horror, Snape realised his hormones was playing up again, and he quickly averted his eyes before his body could betray him.

Lily stepped sideways into his view again, not allowing him retreat gracefully with his dignity intact. "I can always tell when something's bothering you, Sev. Though I know that there are some things you don't like to talk about, all things considering, I think we really should start being more open with each other."

"It's alchemy, alright? I'm having problems with the subject." He growled, desperately trying to cast his eyes to the side. This was the first time he's ever caved to an interrogation, in record time too, he'd bet. Who needed Veritaserum when they had those insistent green eyes?

"Oh." She finally stepped back. "Well, good to know you struggle with sixth year like the rest of us mortals."

Snape could not help the crimson blush that crept up from his neck, but whether it was from his mortification of his confession or a response from his hormones he could not tell.

"Oh honestly Sev, no need to get embarrassed. I would think difficulties are expected for a notorious subject like alchemy."

He could not stop the scowl from breaking forth then. Lily glanced about, seemingly at a loss. Her eyes took in the little pebbles of copper now scattered about the floor. "What exactly is it that you're trying to do?"

"Transmutation." He growled, giving up on trying to shake the topic.

"Alright. Well some of us don't speak alchemist so you'll have to break it down for me."

"It's turning one substance into another."

"Like transfiguration?"

With a shrug, Snape swept his wand across the floor, vanishing his copper litter. "Parts of it."

Lily watched as he proceeded to sweep the scatter of debris on his table away. "You know, when I came in, I would have never guess what you were doing was alchemy. It looked a lot like how I pictured enchanting."

"That requires a phase-shift transfiguration as well?" Snape asked, more grateful for the change of topic than actual curiosity.

"Well yes." Lily nodded, leaning herself against the writing desk as her green eyes sparkled with interest. "Pandora had lent me the most fascinating book on the topic. It described the process in detail. The enchanter has to basically melt metal or stone around a magical core, all the while laying down charms. Apparently, breaking things down ensured some sort of spell permanence."

A strand of frustration unravelled itself from Snape's heart. It was uplifting to watch his Lily speak with such enthusiasm. "That does sound similar." He conceded, eager to encourage her. It was the first time since their reunion that their interaction had taken a semblance of normality. These discussions on Lily's latest reading material had always been a staple of their friendship.

"That's why I was a little confused when you didn't use your left hand at all. Enchantments require the caster to cast the charms while the substance is held in liquid form. Something you do with one hand while the second part is handled by the other." She moved her hand in a sweeping gesture as if trying to visualise the concept.

"That too, is not dissimilar to alchemy." Snape conceded again, feeling the creeping sheepishness return as Lily turned her bright eyes upon him.

"Is wandless casting your issue?"

"And that my wand hand is not my left." He conceded.

"So then you thought the solution would be to try to create a one-handed casting technique?" A sparkle of mirth shone in Lily's eye as she grinned.

Slightly defensively Snape replied with a grumble. "I just wanted to see if it was possible..."

"But that's brilliant Severus!" She exclaimed suddenly with delight. "You're the most creative guy I know!"

A little taken a back, Snape quirked his brow. "I'd say that was a hyperbole, even if I were actually finding success in my endeavour."

"And you will!" Lily insisted. "If there's a way you'll find it. And when you do, I want to hear it." A thin smile touched Snape's lips, the first genuine one he's felt in years. Lily beamed in response, the value not lost on her.

But after a moment, her smile receded as her eyes grew round. "Oh my goodness! I almost forgot!"

With a clumsy scramble, she stood up straight and swept up a small and colourfully wrapped box she had concealed atop the desk behind her. "Happy birthday Sev!"

"A present?" Snape asked hesitantly. He couldn't even remember the last time he received a gift.

"Nah. I'm just holding this box for fun." He had forgotten how cheeky Lily had been. With a quirk of his lips, he accepted the gift, prompting a grin to stretch across her surprised face. "Here I thought I'd have to fight tooth and claw to make you take it."

With a conceding grimace, Snape edged open the wrappings neatly. "I'm tired of fighting."

He slid from the wrapping paper a flat square box edged with velvet, causing his stomach to drop at the expensive look of the item. With a tremor of hesitation, he unclasped the lid, revealing within a gleaming silver pocket watch laid upon a velvet bedding. Snape's dark eyes took in the silvered finish of the sleek watch, the black hands that stretched across its face ticked with a healthy resonance, behind it various dials tracked the date and month and year, as well as the position of the moon along with its phases.

"Happy birthday!" Lily exclaimed again, smiling widely. "You have officially come of age!"

A watch for a seventeen year old. It was wizarding tradition for parents to gift one to mark that particular note in their child's life. Snape had never received one.

With a snap, he closed the lid. "I can't accept this Lily."

He tried to return it, but she was having none of it. "What? You think I prefer to sell it?"

"It's too expensive."

"Wonderful! Indulge." She pushed his hand back. "You're seventeen. You only get to be seventeen once."

A smirk threatened to break through Snape's stormy expression. Lily interpreted his involuntary reaction to situational irony as a concession to her victory. With a happy grin, she pulled him once again unprepared into a hug.

"You know I don't have anything prepared for your birthday." He muttered against her shoulder, feeling his face burn with the awkwardness. Her birthday was of the same month as his and even if he had the means, he hadn't the time or opportunity to procure anything.

"I don't care." She muttered against his shoulder, her breath seeping straight through the thin fabric of his robes and tickling his skin beneath. "I just got my best friend back. I couldn't ask for anything better."

* * *

Snape arrived at the alchemy classroom that Thursday morning to find a message waiting for him at his desk.

' _Alchemy Class cancelled_. _'_ It read in Dumbledore's sloping writing. ' _See me after dinner_ '

If the headmaster was holding his education hostage, then there was no avoiding this encounter. But still he had tried, sitting all the way through dinner until every dish had disappeared and he could find no more reason to stay.

It was with the utmost dread that Snape dragged himself to the Gargoyle corridor that evening.

"Cockroach Cluster." He muttered, prompting the Gargoyle to jump aside.

Snape strode swiftly up the stairs, turning over in his mind the look of disappointment upon the headmaster's face from last they spoke. Perhaps avoiding him so obviously for the past three weeks was not the smartest way he could have dealt with things.

With three quick raps of his knuckles, Snape announced his presence and waited.

"Come in." Dumbledore beckoned, and without another moment's hesitation, Snape pushed into the office.

Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, before him was the Pensieve, already laid out upon his desk. Its silvery light cast across the walls in a display of the memories contained within.

"We left our discussion unfinished for a long while, Severus. A very necessary discussion to finish."

Snape approached his chair with an air of resolute surrender, preparing for the painful discussion yet to come. He hated having to explain himself, especially on topics of such sensitivity. It was going to be a long and arduous talk.

Or so he had thought.

His hands froze upon the back of the seat as his eyes caught the image of his own aged and weathered face floating upon the surface of the Pensieve, set aglow by the Patronus he had cast. His most painful moments played out in silent mockery. Why was he viewing those memories again?

Dumbledore met his eyes and answered his unasked question. "I was reminding myself about how I had once been able to trust you Severus."

Snape released the chair and took an involuntary step back. "Have I given you to reason to doubt me?" His dark eyes burned with disbelief. How could Dumbledore have possibly mistook any of his actions as lingering support for the Dark Lord?

"I have concerns about your nature. One of many worries I have of you."

"I do not plan on ever returning to the Dark Lord. What do I have to do to convince you?"

"And that too I believe you, for grievances run deep in you. I do not doubt you would never forgive Voldemort for the part he had once played in Lily's death."

"Then what?" He hissed, unable to contain the flare of anger and frustration.

Slowly and deliberately, the headmaster answered "I can see a dark wizard when I look upon you."

Fingers curling, Snape's nails dug into the palm of his hands. "I have not committed another act, upon my own volition, against an innocent since I turned my back on the Death Eaters. I have not touched dark magic again, except in service to the light."

"But you feel no remorse." Dumbledore's blue eyes shone silver in the light of the Pensieve. "You are easy to anger and unwilling to forgive." A whisper brushed against Snape's mental shields. "If Lily was your only reason for turning back, what guarantees have I when she is alive?"

 _Then I won't betray her!_ The words snagged behind Snape's throat. He choked upon his rage and indignation. _I won't tread that path again!_ He worked his jaw but his voice would not come.

He could not even think from the emotions raging within. He did not realise his feet were moving before he was already out the door, the Gargoyle leaping aside for him and by then he simply surrendered to instinct and allowed himself to be taken away by his feet. Away from those accusing blue eyes filled with disappointment.

 _Why? Why would he not believe me?_

His strides were quick and brash, echoing loudly in the corridor.

 _Have I not proven myself?_

He could not think for the roaring rage in his ears.

 _Have I not done everything he's asked of me?_

The throbbing of his head matched the rhythm drumming in his ears.

 _Made every sacrifice he asked of me?_

Snape gritted his teeth against his writhing emotions.

 _Why am I reacting so badly?_

Snape stopped midstride, turning on his heels. He stood frozen in the darkened hallway, the sliver of reason finally breaking through his haze of anger and frustration. This state was becoming the norm in his day to day life, an unfortunate side effect of his teenaged body overwhelming his adult mind.

Dumbledore had always been the only one who ever trusted him, it hurt badly that he would doubt him so suddenly. With compounding frustration and the little emotional control his teenage self was capable of, he had flown badly off the handle. It was fortunate that he still had the mind of an adult when control returned to him.

He could not let their discussion end like this.

With a snarl, Snape set off back down the corridor towards the office once more, struggling hard to contain the writhing emotions that push back harder by each day.

* * *

Lily knew she had made a mistake when she fished out two sets of Transfiguration essays from her bag. Severus was not going to be happy when he realise his homework was missing.

They had spent the better part of the afternoon studying in the library. As it turned out, Sev's transfiguration had improved by leaps and bounds since he began his alchemical education, and Lily took advantage of it to make some last minute alterations of her homework. Unfortunately, like the scatterbrain she was, she had accidentally packed his homework along with hers when they left for dinner.

With a groan, she knocked her head against the bedpost, wondering if she could possibly get away with returning it to him in the morning. But with Transfiguration literally first thing the next day, she could envision the boy ripping the school apart in search.

There was nothing for it, it was her mistake. She will make the trek all the way back down to the dungeons to return it to him. Hopefully she'll be able to find helpful Slytherins still out of their common room at this hour and contact him swiftly. Curfew was coming and she did not feel like being caught out, especially not as a prefect.

With a sigh, Lily slipped back into her school robes and reached for her cloak.

"Where you going at this hour?" Mary asked from her bed. She wasn't preparing for sleep yet but she often retreated early when the common room got too rowdy. Migraines she called it. A type of ailment her father had once described as a headache with teeth.

"I took Sev's homework by mistake. I'm just going to return it to him before he realises and freaks out."

Mary grunted in affirmation and said no more. She was never inquisitive when she got like this.

With quickened steps, Lily headed out the Portrait before anyone else noticed. She really didn't want to deal with too many questions when the answer was Sev. Though things have changed she still instinctively avoided the topic of him when she spoke to her friends. It was not that long ago when they had all supported her when she decided to excise him from her life for good.

With swift steps, Lily took the stairs two by two, almost missing a trick step. She could see what few students were left were rushing towards the directions of their respective Houses, curfew was fast approaching. It was because of that perhaps, that the singular Slytherin headed in the opposite direction of the dungeon caught Lily's eye so.

She stopped in her decent and leaned over the railing, feeling a stroke of relief upon recognition of Severus. What a pleasant and convenient coincidence.

He headed up the steps with slow deliberate strides and appeared to hesitate briefly before turned down the second floor corridor. Lily frowned with confusion, she had thought for certain he'd be headed to the library in search for his homework.

She quickened to a jog to catch up, darting down two flights to follow him down the hallway. She darted down the corridor, straining her ears for his footsteps. When had he gotten so silent in his movements?

"Cockroach Cluster." His voice rumble from down the hall and she slowed back down to a stroll when she realised where he was headed.

Of course, it was Thursday night. Tonight was his tutorial night.

Lily sighed as she rounded the bend and caught sight of the Gargoyle shuffling back into place, tapping her foot in consideration of what she should do. She couldn't exactly barge into the headmaster's office and disturb them over homework, homework that she shouldn't ethically have.

With a sigh, she leant against the stonework, wondering what the best course of action would be. If she waits until after he's done she'll surely be caught out after curfew. But almost as if in response to her despairing thoughts, the Gargoyle sprung aside once more.

Lily's greeting caught in her throat at the sight of Severus. He was livid. He stormed past without even seeing her, striding quickly and loudly away.

Lily stood frozen, wondering what had happened.

And why had his expression scared her so? His eyes had been so dark, with more than just fury.

Without even thinking, Lily began making her way up the spiral staircase. She didn't know what she wanted to ask the Headmaster, but she could not help but think she'd rather speak to him than Severus at the moment.

It was perhaps of greater surprise then when she pushed open the door and found nobody within the office. Not Dumbledore, not Fawkes, not a soul. She frowned, glancing about. What then could have caused him to freak out so badly?

A shimmering silver light caught Lily's attention, shining from a bowl perched upon the great oaken desk. She approached cautiously, certain this must be the offending source.

As her eyes peered upon the surface, she was greeted by a face she recognised, in a state she did not. Severus stared up at her, face lined with dread and fear, his eyes glancing about him in panic.

Lily's heart leapt to her mouth at the sight, her mind racing with possibilities. Was this some sort of scrying source like a crystal ball?

Throwing caution to the wind she leant in, eager to see more.

She hadn't expected the room to tilt as it did, or for her feet to leave the ground.

With a yelp, Lily fell forward into darkness, and almost tripped on the hard earth she set upon. She glanced around, eyes wide in fear, finding a landscape littered with barren trees. Wind whipped around her, scraping the branches into a rattle. No snow touched the hill she stood at the base of. Wherever she was, she was not at Hogwarts.

Movement caught her eye atop that hill. Lily almost cried out in fear when she saw him standing silhouetted in darkness. Severus, so different, yet so similar as he stood above her, spinning on the spot, staring in every which way but at her.

"Sev!" She called out, but he did not respond. He continued to shift as if he feared the air itself was out to get him.

It was then Lily realised another stood beside her. Professor Dumbledore observed silently from behind a skeletal tree.

Lily passed her hand across the headmaster's eyes. He didn't even blink. She reached out for his sleeve and to her shock she passed right through. But almost as if her attempted touch brought him to life, Dumbledore finally moved, stepping out of cover and with a harsh sweep of his wand he cast a bolt of light towards the panicking boy.

He did not even wait for the spell to connect before he Disapparated, appearing again suddenly atop the hilltop.

Severus fell to his knees. "Don't kill me!" He cried out, his fear-filled voice whipped away by the howling winds.

* * *

A/N: Oh Dumbles, what are you doing leaving memories sitting about unsupervised?

A thank you to my Beta readers Caleo Ignacium and Sattwa100 for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 11th August 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 14: Beyond All Hope**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	14. Beyond All Hope

**Chapter 14: Beyond All Hope**

Shock rooted Snape in place as he stared from the doorway of the office. Lily stood before Dumbledore's desk, leaning over the Pensieve, standing too still.

Heartbeat sounding loudly in his ears, Snape felt the sickening rush of blood to his head. "Lily," he choked out. No answer replied. She was in there. In that bowl of memories. Watching his most painful moments. Seeing his deepest secrets.

His feet finally obeyed him. He strode forward, hoping she had not yet seen anything too incriminating, but knowing, no matter what she saw, it would still be too much.

He reached into the Pensieve, passing his fingers through the shimmering surface of memories to touch them against her temple. The world barely shifted as he stood once again within this circular office, his hand already reaching out ready to take a hold of Lily and pull her out. But the sight of the silver doe, bounding across the ceiling and leaping through the open window, stopped him in his stride.

It was already too late.

"After all this time?"

His heart dropped as spotted himself, his old and weary eyes staring after the fading silver wisps. "Always."

Snape turned away from the tragedy that was his true self, and to Lily who stood beside him, unmoving, her eyes fixed upon the two figures from memories beyond her time.

"Lily," Snape almost whispered as he laid his hand gently upon her elbow. She started at his touch, turning her wide green eyes upon the younger version of the man she had been watching.

He did not wait for her to get her bearings.

With a tug he brought Lily back into the real world. She gasped as she lifted her face from the liquid memories, as if she had just emerged from water. Snape stepped back swiftly, giving her space to collect herself. Giving himself time to pull his own thoughts together.

 _What am I going to do?_

With a small shake of her head Lily brought her eyes up, her shining green eyes filled with some unfathomable emotion. Unshielded thoughts that beckon his touch.

He turned away, unwilling to meet those eyes. Unwilling to trust himself.

 _What can I do?_

He felt her touch upon his hand. Slowly he lifted his eyes, widening as a tear dropped upon their clasped hands. He met her eyes then, those bright green eyes, framed with shed and unshed tears.

"We need to talk," was all he could manage to say.

* * *

Classroom 31 was a small room that found use as an alternative theory classroom for when, for whatever reason, main rooms could not be used. Despite its long term abandonment, the classroom was kept clean, a testament to the hard work put in by the House Elves of the castle. No had dust built upon its undisturbed desks, still sitting in their neat rows, awaiting students that rarely sought their services. The thick and ancient curtains were drawn closed, shutting out the whisper of light the slivered moon provided, or what little could filter through the cloud cover.

Two patrolling prefects swept past the room, their unobservant glance about the classroom alerted them not of the two still figures seeking refuge in the dark gloom of the disused room. Now well and truly past curfew, the silence was only marked by the patter of slow flurries striking the panes of the window, and the low creaking and whispers within the castle itself.

But even that was to go.

With a flick of his wand Snape enveloped the room into complete silence. At the very least, what would be said in this room would not reach any further ears.

Lily settled silently in a corner by the front of the room. She didn't choose a seat, opting for the floor directly. She tucked her knees up under her chin, scrunching up into a ball, her hands wrapped around herself protectively, shaking with silent sobs. The only light source was a soft glow offered by the ball of light sitting by her feet. The lighting spell Snape had taught her, the spell Dumbledore was to invent within another four years.

Snape stalked over slowly, his heart thudded loudly in his own ears. Lies flew about his untethered thoughts, excuses that would seem plausible, explanations that did not entail admitting to his own foolish mistakes.

Slowly he settled himself onto the floor, his back pressed against the chilly stone wall. His eyes did not lift from the shaking frame of the crying girl beside him. He did not know what to say.

He was reminded of a time when they were children, just after Lily had a bad fight with Petunia. She could not stop crying then and he had been at an equal loss as to what to do. In that, things have not changed, but in experience at least he had grown.

He laid a hand upon Lily's back, hoping she would take comfort in contact as he's seen of others, as he's seen offered to others. It was not something he was personally experienced in.

Her sobbing ease; he could hear her breaths, soft and uneven. Slowly she lifted her eyes towards his own. Even in the dim gloom, the green in her wide orbs was distinctive.

"What did I just see?" She whispered, unsteady and barely audible.

The lies swirled about his mind, excuses perched upon his tongue. But none made it past his lips. "A future that will not come to be."

"Was that a prophecy?" She asked in a rush, her eyes widening with alarm.

"No," he almost hissed. He hated that word, _prophecy_. "That is not a prophecy. That will not happen."

"What is it then?" Her shining green eyes bore into his own, stirring up his unsettled soul. He could not lie to them.

"My past." Snape whispered. The words leaving his lips and disappearing into the silent darkness.

Lily stared, expression unchanged. Untouched by surprise.

"Past?" She whispered. Her tone was not that of disbelief.

"From… another life." As those words left his lips he knew it left as a confession, one he could never take back.

Those green eyes searched his own. If it was anyone else he would have Occluded on instinct, but not Lily. If she even had an inkling for the mind arts he would have welcomed her searching intrusion. Welcomed it to save him from having to explain.

"So all that. Everything that I saw. It happened? To you?" Disbelief still did not touch her eyes.

"All of it," he confirmed, feeling the slow heavy thudding of his heart, "because of me."

Tears. He felt it then, sliding down his sallow cheek, sliding slowly down his angular chin and falling away. He made no motion to stem this shameful display of emotions; he could not stop himself even if he tried.

"My fault. I'm sorry," he gasped, his voice catching. "I killed you Lily."

He could not stop himself as the words poured from his mouth. Confessions of the sort of man he truly was.

"You died because I sold your son to the Dark Lord. Because I overheard a prophecy. I hadn't known who it spoke of, but had it affected anyone but you I would not have done a single thing to stop it. I would not have cared"

He was babbling, he knew. His words were not reassuring, he knew. She could not derive any comfort from them, he knew.

"I was a Death Eater! I killed so many. Committed many terrible acts on behalf of the Dark Lord."

The worst of himself poured freely from his mouth. He could not stop himself. Why couldn't he stop himself?

"When I knew it was you, when I realised what I had done, I had asked the Dark Lord to spare you. I did not care if he took Potter, or your son. I did not care one whit!"

He felt disgust at his own words. The truth about himself he hid from the world, that he himself was unwilling to face, laid bare for the only person in his life that ever mattered.

He could not even meet her eyes.

"I was evil. I was truly evil."

He slumped against the wall, feeling his own knees draw up protectively against himself. The self-loathing crept up from his throat and threatened to choke him.

A soft touch fell upon his back, causing his entire body to stiffen at the unfamiliar contact. Hands slid across his shoulders, pulling him from his protective curl. Lily folded her arms around him, pulling him against her, laying his head upon her shoulder. He could feel her breath against his neck quivering with her own emotions.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He muttered through his ceaseless sobs.

She hushed him, softly but firmly. His breathless apologies trickled away and slowly disappeared into his quiet shaking sobs. "I know," she whispered, arms tightening around him.

His breathing evened, his tears ran dry. Her arms still held tightly onto him, giving him comfort he did not deserve. He sat in silence, unsure of what to do or say. His emotions ached dully within his thudding heart, his confessions lay bare, unable to ever be taken back.

Lily's soft voice pierced the darkness. "A month ago… you promised me you would not become a Death Eater."

"I won't!" he replied harshly, his voice still raw. "Never again!"

Her green eyes found his, shining impossibly brightly in the darkened gloom. "Then, this isn't our future anymore."

* * *

Lily didn't know how many hours had passed as they sat huddled together in that empty classroom, speaking in hushed tones of things that had not yet happened. Despite the powerful silencing spells that no doubt cloaked their presence, neither spoke loudly. Their energy had bled away through tears shed and emotion spent.

It was a shock to learn what she had and it hurt her deeply to know how badly things had turned out. A spy for eighteen years of his life, at least four of which spent directly under the scrutiny of the most dangerous man alive. How far Severus had fallen. How far he could have fallen. His sudden change now made an awful sort of sense.

Because this Severus who sat by her now, this Severus who did not slouch, and did not carelessly swear, would never choose that path again. His failures were a reality to him, but it was a relief to her, that his fall was no longer destined in this lifetime. To know exactly what had been averted, to know the kind of boy that could have stood instead in his place, the boy that would have been growing darker by the day.

The hopelessness she would be feeling as she tried not to watch.

The man who sat within the skin of her once-lost friend was a man who lived all that. Who became the monster she had feared he would be, and against all odds emerged from the other side a better man than anyone could have ever hoped possible.

Because though he did not say it, she knew. She knew he had changed deeply and irrevocably. He carried his mistakes like blood upon an incriminated blade, the guilt that poured from his confession was not the unburdened remarks of the unrepentant.

His heart was different, still dark, but no longer of darkness. His mistakes, though heinous, were not a reality yet. And they never would be. He had promised.

Now it was just about coming to terms with him. Severus Snape, the man who lived two lives.

"Really? You're actually thirty eight?" Lily laughed, she really didn't have the energy for anything but laughter. A small smile finally touched the exhausted face of her time-touched friend. "Actually that's quite young now that I think about it." Lily continued, her smile fading. "Thirty eight isn't a time to die."

The smile faded from Severus' face and a deep sadness touched his eyes. She knew it was not his own death he was thinking on. A sobering reminder to herself that in his life she had died far younger.

"How did you die Sev?" Lily ventured, uncertain if she really wanted to hear it, but at the same time certain it was a preferable topic to him.

"I… was killed," Severus muttered, his eyes turning away, "by the Dark Lord."

"Hey we have something in common!" Lily didn't know what possessed her to attempt such dark humour, he certainly wasn't receiving it as intended. Scowling deeply into the darkness, he muttered indecipherably and apologetically.

"Alright then, this topic is depressing." Lily squirmed closer, touching her shoulder against his. Despite her warm layers, she felt the chill. He didn't pull away but she could see shame and discomfort flare within his eyes.

 _He loves me._ A voice whispered in her mind, explaining his eagerness and reluctance for her touch.

She turned away too, changing the topic for his sake and her own. "Enough about death. Tell me about how you lived."

"Lived?" Severus muttered, voice hollowed of emotions.

"Like what did you do with your life after you got it back on track?" She prodded again.

Her once-errant friend shook his head. "It never got on track."

Lily squirmed. "Come on. Surely you did something. When I saw you in those memories you were dressed quite dapper. At the very least you made something of yourself."

A strange self-deprecating grimace touched his face. "In those memories did you also hear him call me Professor Snape?"

"No but-" Lily paused. "Wait really? You? Became a Professor? Here?" It hadn't clicked when she witnessed it in those memories, it had been quite difficult to process alongside so many world shattering revelations, but now the realisation hit her like a charging Graphorn. She didn't know why she found that so funny, giggles bubbled forth uncontrollably. "Oh Merlin! You! A professor!" She could not stop laughing.

She could see him watching her, his dark eyes staring at her through the darkened gloom, his eyes flashing with indignation. He could not stand being ridiculed, at least that part hadn't changed.

"I'm sorry," she gasped. "It's not that ridiculous I swear." Her giggling did not reinforce her words.

"I hated it," Severus grumbled, turning away again.

"I'd have been more surprised if you liked it." She gave one last tired chuckle. "That means school must be super easy for you now."

"It has still been a long time since I've sat any exams," Severus admitted, "and I have just about forgotten all the complex theories to most of my subjects."

"Ah, no wonder. I thought your charms homework felt rudimentary."

Severus spluttered with indignation. "I am putting in the effort, Lily. I'll thank you not to mock me."

Lily sighed; his poor sense of humour was causing her inappropriate mirth to ebb away. "Let me guess. You taught Potions." He scowled in the affirmative. "You're great at Potions, so why didn't you like it? Weren't you able to teach it well?"

"I taught it fine," he growled. "It was the dunderhead students who refused to learn."

Lily tilted her head along with her brow. "Uh huh. And I'll bet your abundance of patience helped."

"Patience? I shared my own formulas with those ungrateful brats, formulas that should have made brewing easy for even the most intellectually-challenged of cretins, and I'm supposed to be patient when they somehow turn a simple Sleeping Draught into toxic sludge?"

She could not help the eye roll, whether Severus saw it or not. "You know not everyone does rote memorisation like you do."

"They wouldn't need to if they just learned the basic reaction principles." He simply would not let up. "Since day one I set them homework to teach them the basic properties of potion ingredients. The least I expect by fourth year is that they can tell me how slivering a Sopophorous Bean would not be as effective as crushing it."

"Wait a minute. You set essays from first year?" Lily asked, aghast.

Severus did not look the least bit chastised. "Yes. How else are they supposed to learn?"

"Oh I don't know. Maybe set them questions like every other Professor does?"

"Spoon feed them?" He said those words with such vehemence that Lily actually felt chastised.

"What you think every student's going to come into the topic with an expert grasp like you did?"

Severus would not accept her assessment. "I wasn't born with Potioneering knowledge. I studied."

"And you got me to study it too," Lily nudged gently, prompting the exasperated would-be-professor to fall silent. "Remember? I sucked pretty badly at it too in the beginning. And in those first six weeks I dreaded those classes."

"Who wouldn't, the way Slughorn teaches it." Severus muttered darkly.

"Oh I liked the way he taught the topic," Lily insisted, not helping Severus' mood in the slightest. "I just wish he'd double check the recipes in those ancient textbooks before he makes us brew them. I swear half of them don't work right."

"None of them do. I've made corrections to all of them."

Lily laughed, her shoulder jolting against his. "Sometimes I think you're just too smart to be happy among us mere mortals."

Her best friend leaned backwards against the wall, head lolled back as if beseeching the ceiling. "I can find no evidence to refute your assessment."

Slowly her smile faded until only a gentle shadow remained. "You ever find any kind of happiness, Sev?"

He did not answer, and Lily felt her heart ache at the thought.

"Ok maybe that question was too vague." She tried again. "Did you ever get married?"

Severus' eyes swung about to meet hers. She hadn't thought her question ludicrous enough to warrant the disbelief in his dark eyes. "No."

Lily would not be deterred. "Okay what about children then?"

"Didn't I just say I wasn't married?"

She couldn't help herself. "My, I didn't realise you were so old fashioned."

Severus lit up like a Christmas tree, spluttering with indignation. Though he really couldn't take a joke, Lily had to admit that one was in poor taste.

"Sorry, I mean, it's admirable that you were so principled." She honestly didn't know how to word it any better.

"Principles had nothing to bloody do with it," Sev growled, beginning to look honestly quite mortified. "Exactly what kind of woman would look at me and think husband material?"

"Oh don't sell yourself short, Sev." If this conversation continued Lily was going get embarrassed. "You've got plenty of qualities."

"But not the kind a woman would take to bed without payment first," Severus snapped with a flare of temper, then instantly regretted it. The silence stretched alongside his mortification.

Lily could not shake the embarrassment that adorned her equally reddened face. "Well that was a candid insight into your life." She mentally winced, unsure why she couldn't just stop jibing him.

Almost as if he was distancing himself in shame, Severus pulled away so that their shoulders were no longer touching. That slouch returned, that one that caused him to shrivel up against his chest and hide behind his curtain of hair. "Sorry," he muttered in a defeated tone. "I don't know why… I did not mean to be vulgar."

With a sigh Lily scooted over, almost shoving her shoulder into his. "Don't think for a moment after everything you've told me tonight that the fact you spend frivolously on sordid company is the deal breaker."

"I do not _**spend**_ frivolously," he growled, still unwilling to emerge from his curl of embarrassment.

"Got them on discount did you?"

That jibe got a rise out of him. He _**really**_ couldn't take a joke. She could see his beady black eye glaring at her through his veil of hair. Though admittedly, she knew it wasn't anything to really joke about. Her heart ached if she stopped too long to think about it, the tragic picture of his life that all this was painting.

"Did you really have no one?" Lily asked, feeling the will to smile leave her. He did not answer, he did not have to. "Was there any point in your life at all where you were… happy?"

Slowly he drew himself up again, his shoulders straightening as his back found the wall once more. "There was." Lily leaned forward, hopeful, eager. He finally lifted his eyes to meet hers. "But those were years passed within your lifetime."

Her eyes dropped from his. What was left unsaid hung between them like the great purple Erumpent it was.

 _He loves me…_

"Could you really not move on?" She didn't know why there was bitterness in her voice. From the corner of her eye she saw him visibly flinch. "You let your life pass you by! For what? A memory?" Her voice trembled, she felt that lump re-emerge in her throat. "Because, Severus Snape, that is no way to live."

He sat silently for the longest moment before slowly shaking his head. "My life wasn't mine to live. It hadn't been since the moment I killed you."

Her heart gave a hollow aching thud. "You think punishing yourself was how I would have wanted it?"

"Have you any concept of guilt Lily?" he growled, beginning to fluster again.

She shook her head, unwilling to accept this. Unable to accept any of this. "And you did right by me. You came back to the light."

"And was I to just forget everything I had done?" he muttered, she felt him squirm beside her.

"Still!" she exclaimed, unable to grasp the magnitude of the guilt he must have felt. The crushing weight for causing the death of… of someone he loved. "After all that time?"

"Always!"

He did not even hesitate. Lily's heart skipped a beat. Though she asked the question framed around his unshakable guilt, she knew it did not leave her lips the way she had intended it. The answer she received left her in no doubt which way he was choosing to answer it. His eyes were upon her, even though she did not lift her own to meet his she could somehow feel his gaze. Those dark eyes of his. Eyes that had seen so much.

"Sorry," he muttered and she felt him slump again.

She shifted, stretching out her back against the wall, letting the biting cold draw her from her swirling thoughts. "Don't be," she said, without quite knowing what she was trying to say. "That… what you feel. There's nothing to be sorry for." Were they actually going to talk about this? "Anything that could create something like… that. Like your silver doe," that beautiful spectre he conjured in her memory. The image that left her with no doubt how tightly he held on to her within his heart, "something so beautiful… cannot be a bad thing."

Slowly she turned her gaze and found his black staring eyes from within the gloom. That intense dark gaze that stirred something akin to fear in her heart. A squirm of nervousness for the known and unknown.

 _He loves me._ She knew that now, with a certainty beyond anything she ever known in her life. He loved her. But…

He had been the first contact she had with the magical world. A promised support in her life through that terrifying transition. Her best friend, her oldest friend. For years the only constant in her ever changing life.

A boy she had been terrified she had lost.

A horrifying destiny that could have been, a terrible destiny that had been for him. She did not want to lose him again. She stared deep into those eyes, those dark intense eyes that did not leave her, never left her. Could she learn to love him back?

She did love him, dearly, but she would be fooling herself if she thought her feelings reached to where his lay. That undying, unerring love he had held to for longer than she had ever been in his life.

A love she did not think she could ever live up to.

She did not think… but maybe...

"Hey, Severus," she began; hesitant, nervous. Those eyes never left her. "Can you show me that doe? Can you conjure it for me?"

He did not blink, he did not lift his eyes from her own. "Expecto Patronum," he whispered, turning his wand in a wide circular motion.

As if it leapt straight from those memories, the doe materialised before her, brighter and more beautiful than she could ever do justice in her remembering. Without thinking she stood, reaching out to touch the corporeal manifestation of undying love.

The little doe stared up at her with bright silvery eyes, its light touching every corner of the still and silent classroom. She pressed her fingers against its muzzle, feeling a warm tingling where her skin passed through the charm, a warmth that touched her to her core.

A warmth that made her think… perhaps.

Then slowly, it faded, like a flake of snow disappearing under the noon's harsh light, leaving only a fading glare, a reminder of the form the light once took after the darkness settled in its place. Lily blinked as her eyes adjusted to the darkened gloom once more, the after image of the doe slowly disappearing from her eyes. With its passing a powerful sorrow threatened to overwhelm her, the feeling that something terribly beautiful had just disappeared from the world.

"It's called the Patronus Charm." Severus' voice rumbled from the darkness. "It is a charm that is the manifestation of happiness. And it takes on the form… significant to the caster."

"I knew it was me the moment I saw it." Lily turned to the boy who still sat upon the floor, staring up at her with an intensity lost to the darkness of the room and the residual glare remaining in her eyes.

Slowly he pulled himself to his feet, a motion slow and deliberate as she'd ever seen him make. "That is because… it is yours. That doe is your Patronus."

Somehow that answer made a whole lot of terrible sense. At one point in Severus' life she must have learned to cast that spell. The reason that doe was familiar to her was because it was hers, it slept inside her soul. And Severus had kept it, for the duration of his life, long after its original owner had passed from the world. A manifestation of the caster's self and soul, an immortal reminder that his heart was not his own.

Because his heart was hers, always would be hers. Always.

Lily's heart twisted in its seat. It was painful to know what could have been, what had been for him. To know the extent of his regrets, the lengths he had gone in his remorse. To have done all that after all hope had been lost to him, to do that for a mere memory. To love her still when she had just been a memory.

When she had long since fallen in love with another.

Her heart thudded loudly in her chest once again, a roaring in her ears.

In his lifetime she had fallen in love with James Potter. Not just fallen in love, but married him, had a child with him. Started a family, a life, a destiny that was still possible for her.

James Potter, that arrogant and handsome boy. Aggravating, but kind. Childish, yet somehow noble. And growing more mature and charming by the day.

She had teased the idea of simply accepting his advances, just say yes and see where things take them. Never once had she thought so far into the future as to think it would take them to marriage. A family.

"I had married James… didn't I?" When those words left her lips she knew the kinds of emotions she would invoke within him. Into the darkness Severus retreated, his long slim form shrinking against the frozen stone. She could not see his eyes, but she could feel they had left hers.

"Severus. Can you… tell me… what my son was like?" She watched him intently, hoping but not truly believing he would answer her.

"… He had your eyes," his voice lanced through the darkness. Raw, and unexpected.

She couldn't help the smile that found its way to her lips. A strange mingle of happiness and sadness in equal measure. "Did he live a good life? Even if I wasn't there for him, was he happy?"

"…Yes. I believe so," Severus muttered, his voice holding a strange tense edge overlaying a gentle tone. "He had many that loved him and cared for him in your stead."

"Including you?"

He fell silent, a deep hard silence. A silence more telling than anything he could have said, a silence that broke her heart.

"You did not love him," Lily muttered, laying bare the words that hung unsaid.

Severus drew up. She could see his eyes now, glinting in the dim light of the still glowing orb upon the floor. "I protected him." His voice deep, words ringing with emphasis.

"But you didn't love him," she insisted, somehow unable to grasp the idea. How could he, a man who loved her so deeply, not have been able to find it in himself to love the only thing she would have left behind?

"How could I?" he almost roared, his voice chipped with frustration. "He looked just like his father!"

Lily's heart skipped a beat. The horrible dreaded truth hung between them, the inescapable and unavoidable impasse. She had hoped… she had been given reason to hope, that the malaise of bad feelings that hung between Severus and the Marauders could dampen with time. That it would not come down to a choice between him and James.

But his hatred had not faded in the twenty odd years that proceeded this point, lingering far beyond the death of the man itself, darkening any chance of a relationship he could have ever had with a son Lily would have never got to see grow up.

"The feeling was mutual. The boy hated me too." Severus' voice came unexpected, muted. "He was reckless, and arrogant, just like his father! Always running headlong into danger without a damned thought of the consequences, of the life he was risking! Of the sacrifices that would have been wasted!"

"You're talking about a child." Lily felt her heart breaking. The son she never had, a boy she never met, and her best friend who couldn't find it in himself to share with the boy a fraction of the love he had for the mother.

"And in the end… I could not protect him either." Voice barely a whisper, the distraught young man slumped against the wall. "I tried, tried so hard to think of a way to save him. I couldn't. I died before he did but I… He wouldn't have… lived long past… past my passing."

A lancing pain struck across Lily's heart. Tears fell from her eyes, tears for a boy she had never met. A boy she knew she would have loved. The memory of Severus berating the headmaster for his callous decision to sacrifice her son blared forth from her mind. She had watched that scene with a numb disbelief, a jarring scene wedged into a tale of trust and friendship between Severus and an equally enigmatic Headmaster. The memories had begun with the scene upon the hilltop, shifting to the crying wreck he became within Dumbledore's office, from small conversations had between headmaster and the young inexperienced Professor, to the conspiratorial whispers as they planned for war once again. The mentions of her son that emerged from that story passed too quickly for her to fully comprehend.

It was only now, after talking with Severus did this idea seem real. That she had a son who had lived a life well past her own. A son she had never got to raise. A son that was sacrificed in the war, to great protest by a man who could never bring himself to love him. A man who was never truly loved himself.

"He was there when I died," a whisper in the straining silence, Severus' voice sounded again. "He knelt beside me when I lay dying. When all logic should have told him to abandon me." He shifted again, his eyes drifting but not finding hers. His voice, a hoarse whisper. "Whatever faults he may have had… at the very least he had your kindness. And I am very sorry I could not save him."

Guilt, she heard it then. Remorse for the wrongs he could not right. An ode to what would be the defining theme of his terrible life. A life that was his past, but also his future. A future he was struggling so hard to change. He would never be a Death Eater again. That was what he had promised her.

Lily stepped forward, feeling the crushing burden that was this knowledge. The knowledge of a future that could have been hers. The knowledge that a son waited for her in that life, as well as a husband, tied together with strands of fate that had not yet become reality.

Because she has not yet come to love James Potter.

Her heart thudded in her chest, the certainty of what would have been, and the question of what could be. Because she knew, despite all his faults, despite all the wrongs he had done, Severus became a good man. He was fighting hard to make something of the terrible hand he was given, fighting free of all the darkness that grabbed at him from all sides and from within.

All alone with only her memory as his guiding light.

 _He needs me._

The future she could have had, went hand in hand with the future he could have had. He chose to change his course, struggling against everything life had taught him to be. He stumbled here and there, like anybody would, but never on the most important things. He never dipped back into that darkness, never abandoned the course he carved for himself. And until this point he had done all that alone.

She reached out and took his hand. It felt dry and hot against her own. He startled, eyes darting up to meet hers.

"You're freezing!" he growled, concern overriding any presiding thoughts that might have been roiling within his mind. He grasped for her other hand, bringing them both within his own. She could feel the tingle within her fingers, a feeling so similar to one she felt not long ago.

 _It is possible._

"Severus… Thanks." She could feel the warmth return to her skin, she hadn't realised how cold she was getting. Dawn's grey light was beginning to trickle through the edges of the thickened curtains, casting dancing wisps along the wall. He did not answer, no acknowledgement of her appreciation, he just stood in abject silence, sharing his heating charm with her through contact and proximity.

She drew a hand from his grasp, withdrawing from his comforting warmth. Slowly she brought her fingers up against his cheek, his eyes widening to her touch.

 _It is possible._

"Severus…"

 _It is possible._

"Teach me." His brows furrowed, his wide eyes searching her own. "Teach me to cast the Patronus. Teach me to summon your doe."

"It's your doe." his voice rasped. "It was always yours."

 _It is possible._

Lily smiled, a hesitant but beaming smile. Of what laid before her, the possibilities of what could be, she at least knew one thing with certainty. If she followed the doe lying dormant within her heart she would eventually find him.

* * *

A/N: A seriously talk-heavy chapter. Onwards towards the ship we go.

A thank you to my Beta readers Caleo Ignacium and Sattwa100 for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 25th August 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 15: A Fate Undecided**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	15. A Fate Undecided

**Chapter 15: A Fate Undecided**

Breakfast was well on the way when Lily snuck into the Great Hall. She had spent all night breaking curfew, a fact not likely lost on her friends. Combined with the rings of exhaustion around her eyes and the unkempt state of her hair and robes, she was going to run into uncomfortable questions.

Severus had the forethought to take an alternate path, slipping away before they ran into another soul, living or dead. She could see him already seated amongst his Slytherins. In daylight, he didn't look much worse for wear. A night's lost sleep had little impact on his already sunken eyes, and frankly nobody would be able to tell if his hair or robes was in any worse state than usual.

Unfortunately, on Lily, those things would not so easily slip by.

"Woohoo. Look who's shown up gals." Susan's singsong tone met her before she could even take her seat. "Out all night huh Lily? Who's the lucky guy?"

A clang and splutter met her ears as down the table James had just turned beet red, apparently choking on his cup of tea, prompting Black to reach over and thump him harshly on the back. This was not a promising start to the morning.

"Nothing so saucy guys," Lily mumbled, reaching for the toast. "I got caught out after curfew on a floor that Filch just refused to stop patrolling. I just locked myself into a classroom and waited it out till morning."

Mary's eyes met hers, though she said nothing Lily knew she remained unconvinced. Lily had told her who she was meeting the night before, the only person to know she had left to find Severus.

 _Oh crap I hadn't given him his homework!_ She had all night and she couldn't damn well remember to do what she had left her dorm to do.

Lily glanced across the hall at the thin, hawk-like Slytherin boy, eating with gusto but not without manners. If he had realised he was no longer in possession of his homework then he did not seem concerned. Had it been the boy Lily had always known, she would think the idea of him calmly accepting the loss of points and reputation was outlandish. But with this new Severus, all bets were off. This Severus had been a Death Eater, a professor, a spy, and killed by You-Know-Who himself. It kind of puts a late article of homework to perspective.

"Hey Lil's, you're look real slack," Marlene observed, causing Lily to quickly tear her eyes from the Slytherin table. "Think you should take a sick day? McGonagall won't like it but you look legitimate."

The ailing girl was quick to reassure. "Oh no! I feel fine. Can't disappoint the den mother." Besides, she still had to get Severus' homework back to him, regardless of whether he cared. It still mattered to her that she was going to cost her best friend his perfect track record.

Speaking of best friends and track records. "Marlene, you finish last week's resubmission?" When left to her own devices, Marlene tended to have to repeat homework hand-ins.

"Yeah…" the blond Gryffindor sighed, "but I barely clobbered together this week's…"

Lily groaned. "Marlene…"

"You think McGonagall will go easy on me if I end up in the hospital wing too?"

"Of what? Procrastinitis?"

"Don't you use that fancy muggle lingo on me," Marlene heaved a dramatic sigh. "One of those times I wish those Slytherins were still aggressing us. Makes it so much easier to whip up an alibi."

Almost as if the mention of 'Slytherin' carried across the room, Severus' eyes were drawn to the Gryffindor table, finding Lily's drifting gaze. She held those eyes in place for a good three seconds before he suddenly looked away, subtle discomfort written all over his face and body language, including the fact he tried to use a fork to eat his porridge.

Lily couldn't help but smirk. Despite years of dangerous work as a spy and a soldier of the light, he couldn't meet her eyes without jittering all over the place. It was well beyond a simple crush, and she had no idea how she could have missed it.

Or maybe she just hadn't cared before…

Before everything.

Lily turned back, shaking off her lingering thoughts, a seemingly casual motion that did not appear to fool Mary in the slightest. She found the girl stared at her briefly before mouthing silently the words 'be careful' and then covering it by taking a deliberate bite of her marmalade toast. This was going to make for uncomfortable explanations later, Lily thought to herself as she quickly turned away, eager to involve someone else in conversation just to throw off attention. Unfortunately that brought her into direct eye contact with James. James who stared at her with wide eyed disbelief.

Lily felt her heart skip a beat. That glimpse into the future brought with it knowledge she could never simply forget. The knowledge of how her life could have turned out…

How it still could turn out.

Lily turned her eyes away, spooning unenthusiastically at a tureen of baked beans, attempting to assemble half an English breakfast. Her mind was a jumble, burdened by a combination of exhaustion and soul-wrenching awareness. Her discoveries last night had opened up a new world that told her not only of possibilities, but also of certainties.

Certainties like James Potter. If she was to walk down that path she would find someone she could make a life with. But that decision brought with it another certainty.

Severus would live his life like he once had. Alone, and unhappy.

In the emotional storm of the night before, in the tiny room, sealed away from the rest of the world, warmed by his hands and heart, it had been an easy decision to make for herself. To forgo the future of certainty to stay by his side in whatever capacity she could find within herself.

To search for that silver doe.

As inconspicuously as she could, Lily brought her eyes up from her plate and across the hall towards the crowd of green. Severus had returned to his meal, partaking in porridge in a manner as if he was dining with the muggle queen. Behaviour at such odds with the boy she had known, behaviour that spoke volumes of the man he changed into. A man he had become despite all odds, despite the darkness that clung to his heart. The man who chose to shed that darkness, for a love that had never been returned.

A man who had never been loved.

A man she knew she could come to love. But that meant abandoning a future that would have been.

Slowly Lily's eyes slipped from the Slytherins to gaze down her breakfast table. Her eyes found him, the Gryffindor boy whose life entwined with hers, his hazel eyes watching her with a ferocious intensity. She felt a chill down her spine, and a dread she did not anticipate. The knowledge of what is and still could be blared unsilenced within her mind. The knowledge of what she would be giving up if she chose the different course.

A child who would never be born.

Lily turned back to her plate of toast and beans, hunger trickling away through her haze of exhaustion and troubled thoughts.

* * *

By the time Transfigurations rolled around, Lily was in a bad mood. Having endured a free period of inane questions from Susan and measured glances from Mary, Lily was about ready to hex the next person who makes even the slightest innuendo. Unfortunately, an hour block of Transfiguration stood between her and freedom with her thoughts, but at the very least it would be an hour free from gossipy prodding.

Hurrying ahead of her friends, mostly to avoid Susan's pointed questions, Lily arrived at the already open door of the Transfigurations classroom. She hurried inside without waiting for the pack of girls trailing behind her, just glad to be within the shelter of calm and order that was McGonagall's domain.

As she stepped through the door that opened directly from the back of the classroom, Lily could not help but cast her eyes about the room. Not unexpectedly Severus was already there, perched straight backed in his seat near the doorway. His eyes meeting hers briefly before she glanced away, continuing her trudge towards her seat at the front, troubled thoughts swirling about her cluttered mind. Her eyes trailed across the rest of the room, noting the half-filled attendance, taking too careful a note on the absence in the Marauder's corner. Of how James was not yet there… They would be there before class start, as they never missed Transfigurations.

With a suppressed sigh, Lily deposited herself into her front row seat, her eyes fixed blankly at the colossal desk not yet occupied by the Professor. It wasn't even a couple second's respite before loud yammering voices announced the arrival of her friends. Marlene deposited herself directly into the second seat at Lily's desk with a stretch and a dejected sigh; across the gap on the adjacent desk Mary settled into the seat, sharing the table with Pandora. It seemed it was Susan's day to be stuck sitting together with Dorcas across the room. The Ravenclaw girl chose the desk closest to the Marauder's corner during the practical portion for reasons of academic pursuit. That was fine by Lily, she needed distance.

 _If that damned gossip insinuated one more lewd comment I'll-_

What she'd do was lost to her thoughts when suddenly James strode by, her eyes drawn to the handsome boy with more insistency than it ever had before. He glanced her way, a small brief meeting of their eyes, the corners of his lips lifting at the prospect of catching her attention. A bright, fun and handsome boy who had never made it a secret how much he crushed on her. A boy who could irritate her with his arrogance, and flatter her with his attention, who could make her feel wanted and desirable. A boy whose family reserved a place, of wealth, stability and respect within this magical world. The world she had always wanted to find a place in.

Outside of the darkened isolation of the silent second floor classroom, her decision was becoming a jagged gauntlet of the heart. She did not love James, yet. Interested, definitely. Who wouldn't be, the handsome young man that he was? With the charm and confidence of a boy who had never been denied, any girl would find their head turned, and it was only by the power of sheer stubbornness that Lily had been fighting that silly instinct for years. After all, like any spoilt child he was only interested in what he could not easily obtain.

That had been her belief for years, one of the main reasons why she had never allowed herself to fall for him, that and his awful arrogant nature. But even after she and Sev had drifted apart, even as his ceaseless torment upon her once-friend was beginning to let up, she resisted. The thought would not leave her that the charming and handsome James Potter chose to pursue her simply because she resisted, and the moment she turned his way he would simply grow bored. She would become just a notch upon his belt, another girl among the many.

Now she knew it was not the case.

The future she could have had with him… the future she could still have with him.

The future that excluded Severus from her life.

Lily felt her stomach squirm, heavy and uncomfortable with the breakfast she had forced herself to consume. She couldn't know for sure but somehow she felt eyes boring into her back. The black eyes of the man she was forsaking with her thoughts.

There was never any way to keep Severus if she chose James.

"Class. Settle." McGonagall swept through the middle aisle, bringing with her the authority of silence and order, and granting Lily a grateful reprieve from her swirling thoughts. "We are embarking upon Human Transfiguration in today's lesson and I need everyone to engage with their utmost focus. This is a dangerous branch of magic and I would rather you not have to spend the rest of your day regrowing your nose in the Hospital Wing."

Great. Of all days to be sleep deprived.

"Now I'm sure you're all eager to get started but formalities must be seen to. Please pass your homework forward to the front."

 _Oh no._

Lily's eyes widened as she twisted in her seat. Severus was already elbow deep in his bag, flipping through the contents with an air of frustration. With mutters and groans scrolls were starting to make their way down the chain of tables to the front. Lily stared on desperately, beseeching Severus to excise his eyes out from within his bag to see her subtly waving his homework at him.

Unfortunately McGonagall noticed his flustered activity in the back before Lily was able to win his attention. "Mr Snape. I trust there is no issue."

Slowly Sev set his bag aside, embarrassment burning upon his face. It appeared even Professors loathed being caught out without their homework. "I… seem to have misplaced it."

"Why this is quite unusual Mr Snape. Homework was never where your priorities lacked."

"Probably wasn't thinking with his brain ma'am," came Black's unwelcome smirking interjection from the front corner. "Not enough blood supply to run both that and his balls at once."

The class erupted into cruel laughter. Severus glowed red, glowering in his seat. No matter how much had changed it was almost comforting to know Sirius Black at the very least could be counted on to be an absolute prat.

James however, did not look at the least bit amused. He took a hold of his best friend's elbow and pulled him close with low inaudible muttering. It made Lily's heart flutter to think that perhaps the once bullying boy was changing his ways, finally taking steps to put a stop to this incessant tormenting of the Slytherin boy.

"Your remark is both unhelpful and unwelcome, Mr Black," McGonagall snapped in a dry tone, "I would thank you to cease your vulgarities in the vicinity of polite company." She turned to the crimson boy in the back, "and Mr Snape I do expect better from you."

It was an incredibly unjust situation to have Severus endure, especially when the fault was not his. It was not the ideal way Lily would have him vindicated but she couldn't sit by and cover her eyes. "Professor McGonagall. I have his homework," Lily announced, feeling uncomfortable under the unwanted attention of numerous stares she just attracted. Holding the elusive article homework aloft Lily stood to deliver her stack of gathered parchment.

McGonagall did not look the least bit sated with this answer. "What, may I ask, is Mr Snape's homework doing in your possession Ms Evans?"

Lily flushed, hating every moment of this negative attention she was receiving. "We were studying together yesterday, and it got mixed up with my stuff when I packed up. Sorry Sev, was meaning to give it back to you before now," she said with an apologetic glance over her shoulder. Severus stared back at her with his black pitted eyes.

"Well then Ms Evans, I trust that you will pay better mind in class today than you had with your friend's possessions," McGonagall quipped lightly as she accepted the stack of parchments.

Lily slunk back to her seat, almost falling into it with relief. Marlene leant over, "how in Merlin's name does she just accept that without question? If I handed in two scrolls she'd be all over me."

"Perhaps Ms McKinnon, that is because your friend here has never shown any predisposition to copying other people's work," McGonagall's voice lanced across the room sending the blond girl scrambling to right herself in her seat. "A trait I would rather you emulate if you wish to be offered the same sort of consideration."

* * *

Sleep deprivation was not an uncommon state for Severus Snape, but unfortunately his teenaged body was having trouble remembering that. During the course of class, Snape found his mind wandering more often than he ever thought possible, more often than even lack of sleep could adequately explain. Because at the forefront of his thoughts swam Lily, of how she did not reject him when he confessed his worst, of how she did not hate him when she knew how badly he had forsaken her.

Of how soft her fingers felt against his cheek.

Slowly he drew his fingers across the area of skin where her fingers had laid, feeling only the thin patchy growth of whiskers that was beginning to appear.

Shaking himself out of his swirling thoughts, Snape muttered "Crinus Muto," but it seemed his mind had completely wandered off as he tapped his wand against his head. On hind sight not the best way a dangerous branch of transfiguration ought to be attempted, but luckily for him the spell worked as intended.

Less luckily however, it telegraphed quite brazenly exactly what was on his mind. With a wincing blanch, Snape realised the hair-transformation spell had turned his long black a mane bright auburn red.

"Got it in one again. God, how do you do that?" Lester asked from the next desk over. Thankfully he completely missed any significance in his friend's accidental choice in colour template.

"Practice." He mumbled an answer, restoring the colour as quickly and subtly as possible.

A helpless smile twisted across the muggle-born's face, "Well you appear to be the only person who's actually got it down," Lester tilted his head indicating his desk partner Mulciber and his murderous scowl at the bald patch upon his crown.

"Try casting it less angrily," Snape offered snidely and unhelpfully.

Mulciber pushed himself up, resigning to the trudge up to the front and getting McGonagall to sort out his mess. The Marauders eyed the hulking boy as he stomped by but made no pass at him. It was good to know height and mass made one less of a target in the Marauder's eyes.

Muttering the incantation, Urquart had succeeded in tinging the front of his fair hair green. Whipping the mirror around the boy observed his results, looking dissatisfied with what he found. At the very least he did not need help restoring his mistake, as with a quick tap his hair returned to its dirty blond.

Snape cast his eyes about the classroom, finding similarly poor success rates among the rest of the class. One Hufflepuff had already somehow managed to somehow turn his hair sentient. McGonagall was rushing down the aisle to combat this magical mishap before it scalped the boy and mauled his neighbour.

Down in the front corner seat of the classroom, a number of the Marauders had appeared to find success. James Potter and Sirius Black now sported manes of dazzling golden blond, and it made them look like damned twats.

Sweeping his eyes across to the front aisle, he settled his sights upon Lily, her hair still a beautiful deep auburn red. She did not appear to be applying herself to the task as she sat hunched over on her elbows, rubbing her palm across her eyes. She could not be handling the loss of sleep well, and at her age sleep was exactly what her still growing body needed. A sliver of guilt squirmed in his gut for being the very reason she had missed an entire night's sleep; a thought which, for some idiotic reason also caused him to feel unreasonably pleased with himself. He blamed the hormones.

It was at that moment that Lily chose to lift her eyes from her hands. She turned in a subtle motion, her eyes drifting across the front rows to the arrogant boy lounging in his corner seat, running his fingers through the back of his ridiculous golden hair. Any tickle of optimism up till that point evaporated with that one glance.

Why did he think he had any hope? Just because she had forgiven the worst of him? Because she did not hate him for his mistakes? Because she ran her fingers down his face?

He scowled hatefully down at his desk, seeing his own hideous reflection glower back at him from the mirror that lay unused upon it. Hope was a stupid emotion, and had he not been a dumb teenager, he would not have entertained such a silly notion. How could he have thought that just because she knew the truth of his misery that she'd pick him? Did he really think she was going to give up the vainglorious Potter and date him out of pity? Especially when the tragedy of his life had been entirely his own fault in the making.

Class ended while Snape had his face buried his arms, sheltering from his exhaustion and self-pity. The clatter of books and bags and the scrape of chairs awoke him from his spiralling thoughts, but even so he loathed to re-join the world of the conscious. There was nothing waiting for him out there but broken hopes and a pointless future.

"Hey Snape." He felt Urquart's angular elbow jab into his side, drawing him irritably out of his misery. "Look alive chap. I do believe your princess wishes to speak with you."

He yanked his eyes from his desk to the green ones awaiting him, just inches away. A smile touched her face, a smile that confused the young man greatly and stilled his darkened thoughts and fanned that hateful flare of hope.

"Hey Sev, got time?" she asked, still smiling her beautiful but confusing smile. With a muted nod he stood and began gathering his gear, taking care to stow his homework question with great attention. He was not keen on repeating this morning's exercise twice. With a polite regard to Lily, Urquart excused himself from the table. Say what one may about the boy's social manners, he at least knew how to be formally polite and when his presence was not desired.

With his bag slung carefully across his shoulders, Snape strode to the door where Lily awaited him. Few stragglers were left, a Ravenclaw threw a suspicious glance over Snape's direction as he hurried past the awaiting Gryffindor.

"Did you want to study?" Snape asked as he fell into step beside her. It honestly was too much to hope for that she wanted to simply enjoy his company. That might have been the case once before, but not since their great calamitous end of friendship, and it certainly did not seem like the direction her knowledge of the truth would take them.

Lily however shook her head, a hesitant smile upon her lips. It made Snape feel nervous and idiotically hopeful in equal measures. "Actually Sev, I wanted to go out to the Great Lake."

He frowned, immediately thinking this was a bad idea. "It's still freezing outside."

"Yeah. You can hold up against the cold with your charm right?" Lily shot him a small measured smile, "but the weather's holding up now so this is the best time today."

"Best time to… do what?"

* * *

Even for his promised lessons on the Patronus Charm, Severus did not seem pleased about going out to the lake in knee height snow. It was unlikely to be because of seasonal discomfort of the cold, Lily knew now he was well protected by his heating charm. It was likely Lily herself who was going to have a harder time enduring the chill despite how much better dressed for the weather she was.

Severus had initially offered to cast his heating charm upon Lily, an offer she had quickly accepted without realising how uncomfortable the spell felt. Within minutes she was sweltering under her layers, the spell made her feel like she was trapped in her own personal humid summer's day. It did not take long for her to give in and ask him to dispel it. The returning rush of winter's air struck her like a physical blow, but the shock of cold stood leagues more preferable than the suffocating heat.

Students from younger years were out and about on the grounds, playing in the snow during break time. Quite a few of the students were from parts of Britain that did not get decent snowfall during this time of year and heavy snow cover such as this in the Scottish highlands was still a novelty. Severus, however remained unamused. When a snowball sailed a little too close for comfort, he sent the offending first year packing with a glower that could have melted that child's snow fort.

Lily hid a grimace, it wasn't hard to imagine the kind of teacher he might have been. All bristly and strict, probably the kind that would give you detentions for missed homework hand-ins, probably the kind that wouldn't have accepted Lily's excuse in the morning and docked points regardless.

Lily slowed her step as they drew up to the lakeside but Severus continued to the grove of trees. With a swift motion his wand was in his hand, he was so quick Lily didn't' even see where he had drawn it from. With a flick he swept the snow away from the base of a great dipping oak, forming a dry V-shape between two thick and knobbly roots.

It was obvious that the intention was to create a place to sit, but Lily couldn't help but smile when he just stood there awkwardly, uncertain as to how he should communicate his intent. He was never good at expressing himself, his grasp of body language was poor and when he could not put something in words he'd often ended up standing there expecting you to just understand him. These familiar and endearing little snippets, of the Severus she knew, shone out all the more brightly from the different man he was now.

The calmer, wiser, and deeply lonely man he was now.

The kind of man who did not know how to be happy.

Lily did not know if she could love him back, but for the sake of them both she was going to find out, with the only path she knew laying entwined with this complex and beautiful charm. And if at the end of it all, if she still could not find it in herself to match his feelings, then it would not be fair for either of them if she continued this road. But at the very least she would have tried, at the very least she gave him the consideration he deserved.

With a small smile Lily strode over to sit upon the great root causing Severus to appear relieved that he did not need to explain any further. With a stiff but somehow still graceful motion, he settled upon the root facing her, carefully maintaining their personal space. Lily watched him position his skinny legs awkwardly, so very careful to not touch her.

She took a deep shuddering breath, taking in the cutting air into her lungs, using the shock to clear her head. Exhaustion still clung to her and she badly needed sleep, yet she could not bring herself to put this off.

"I still don't see why we have to be by the lake to do this," Severus grumbled. He must have noticed the shiver that passed through Lily when she drew deeply at the freezing air.

A small smile twisted on the fair girl's lips as she stared out at the great frozen lake, a beautiful sight she didn't bring herself to enjoy often enough. "I wonder, how much do you actually remember of me Severus?" His movements ceased, she could feel his black eyes boring into her but she did not turn to meet them. "It has been… twenty years since you've seen me hasn't it?"

She felt him move, his knee knocking gently against hers. "I remember you loved the lake. It was your favourite place on the school grounds." A smile graced Lily's lips, a small touch of warmth reached her heart. "I remember you loved animals, but had no affinity with them what so ever. You couldn't even get a cat to sit still upon your lap and struggled to find a school owl that would cooperate without first taking a peck at you." That was true, but she had long since learned how to make peace with the school owls. He was remembering things from when they were children together, before they drifted apart. "I remember… you were the kind of girl who would rather smile than frown. Always kind, you loathed to be cruel. You always tried to see the best in people, even when they did not deserve it."

She turned then, finally meeting his dark intent eyes. "Do you think you might be misremembering who I am?" He frowned, as if unsure of how to answer. "Because as flattering as your list may be, I don't seem to recall ever being the perfect being you described."

A smirk twitched upon his thin lips, "I can't forget your temper."

"Well good to know I've made such an impression," Lily replied tartly with a raised brow in mock disapproval.

"Or how you snort when you laugh."

"I do not!" Lily exclaimed, fighting hard to contain the laughter that threatened to prove him right. A genuine smile edged Severus' smirk, a little touch of self-satisfaction.

"I also remember back in the summer of third year, when we snuck into Petunia's bedroom you-"

"Alright, alright!" she quickly back pedalled, not willing to dredge up that can of worms, "Okay fine, your memory was never your weakness. I don't know why I doubted it."

His smile withdrew, his eyes was suddenly unable to meet hers, as if he feared what he might see there. "C'mon Sev. Time to teach me," she urged, trying to distract him from whatever was making him frown so.

"Right," he muttered, turning back to her but still reluctant to meet her eyes, "your favourite place, this lake. Did you choose it because you thought it would help you with your casting?"

"That was partially it," Lily conceded, "you did say happiness had a lot to do with the Patronus."

"That is… the simple version," Severus' lips twisted in a grimace, "it is more accurate to say that the Patronus is built upon positive emotions. Most reasonably happy memories will produce a formless Patronus, appearance similar to that of silver mist, but for the corporeal one that you're aiming to cast, only the strongest will do."

Lily frowned, "Don't take this the wrong way, but I didn't think positive emotions was your… thing."

A dry smile graced Severus' lips, a smile that spoke of knowing all too well of what she was saying. "Perhaps it was my fortune that I did not have many appropriate memories to choose from that it became simple matter to find the one that worked."

With a feigned casual tone Lily asked, "So what was the memory that worked?"

Red tinged Severus' face as he fought hard not to scowl. "I'd… rather not say," he muttered, causing Lily's imagination to tailspin.

"But it did involve me right?" she asked, a little too quickly.

The reddening boy couldn't help the scowl upon his face then. "It was nothing lewd," he hunched over, trying to hide behind his curtain of hair. Another familiar habit, one he did not seem to do now among anyone else's company but hers.

"Right…" Lily muttered, feeling her face begin to warm as well. With any luck Severus would mistake her reddening for wind bite. She had thought it might have been lewd, especially after what she found out about him during the course of the night. She didn't know why but she had never considered her best friend to have been that… interested… in anything other than mental stimulation. It was a silly idea upon consideration, after all he had been a teenaged boy, and though Sirius Black's libido was no benchmark to hold others by, the tales of his lascivious ways reached far and wide leaving Lily without a doubt of the sort of state of mind his far more civilised counterparts might be politely concealing.

The idea that Severus might have been concealing such thoughts about her… she actually did not know how to feel about that. Was it even her business to feel anything? After all that was his mind, what goes on in there should not be anyone's business but his own. Goodness knows the sort of thoughts about him she's had over the years, a few simply unkind, some of them downright cruel. Once in a fit of temper, she had wished upon him a miserable fate for choosing the path that he did.

Some of her cruellest thoughts turned out most prophetic.

"Look. Just choose a happy memory and start from there," Severus suddenly growled, evidently growing uncomfortable under her pointed stare.

Lily obliged him and closed her eyes, thinking through her collection of happy memories and freeing him from her gaze. Several came to mind, such as last year when Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup and House Cup, the exhilaration she had felt alongside her House had almost completely overwhelmed the funk of severing ties with her best friend. Almost. But then not long after that, she had lost her mother. The sweet memory suddenly tasted like ash upon her tongue.

She turned her mind to Hogwarts, and the elation she had felt upon seeing the great walls of the fabled white castle, looming out against the night sky as she sailed towards it upon a small rickety boat. The excited look she had exchanged with that young smiling Severus, their hands clasped together, eyes still bright with hope for the future and confident in their friendship.

Standing, Lily faced towards the lake, balancing her wand lithely between her fingers in a confident charms-work-type of hold. "Expecto Patronum!" she cried, mimicking the looping swish of the wand that Severus had done. No wondrous doe leapt forth, but she had expected it to be harder than that. What she hadn't expected was there to be no response at all. Did Severus not say to expect at least a silver mist?

"What memory did you use?" Severus asked, as she slumped back into her seat.

"Oh so it's okay to ask me?" Lily quipped tartly, a little flustered by her exercise of emotional self-manipulation and irritated by her null response. Charms were her forte, even on her first tries she'd never gotten no response.

His dark eyes narrowed as they slowly fixed upon hers, "If you understand what you're doing wrong then by all means keep it to yourself."

"I know. I know. I'm sorry," Lily muttered, settling down. "It's just all a little… overwhelming."

"We barely started," Severus replied dryly.

"I just meant, everything. From last night, and today. My thoughts just haven't stopped." A pointedly curious look caused Lily to change the direction of her babbling, "But yes. The memory I picked. Too right you need to know. It wasn't even anything all that embarrassing, I don't know why I was being so snippy." She knew all too well why. Her emotions had been roiling beneath the surface, and this exercise was forcing her to dip into them actively, lifting the lid upon the pressure pot so to speak. "The memory I chose was the first time we saw Hogwarts. Remember the sight of the great white castle looming out across the lake? Remember how happy and excited we both were?"

A small frown touched upon Severus' brows. "I remember you were more scared than happy."

"What?" Lily matched his frown.

"You were scared. You told me you were frightened and that's why you wanted to hold my hand." His fingers twitched, an almost involuntary motion.

That little whisper of memory came back to her, the fear she felt within that moment, a component she had forgotten. The child Lily had been was mired in worries and doubts. What if she didn't fit in? What if nobody liked her? What if she was not made for this world? This magical world to which her best friend belonged. Now, standing on the other side she hadn't given a single one of those childhood anxieties a single thought.

"I can't believe you still remember that," she muttered, her roiling thoughts set a flight once again, "That would have been a bajillion years ago for you."

"Twenty seven," he corrected. A man of semantics, as ever.

"Okay. This is harder than I thought," Lily muttered, trying to sieve through her memories to one where the brightest emotion was happiness. She was just beginning to realise how difficult that was going to be, she very rarely felt just one thing at any one time. "How about that first time we met when you told me I was a witch?"

A small smile twisted upon Severus' thin lips. "I remember you had initially felt I insulted you."

"Okay, not that one. The time after. When I came to find you, and then I started to believe you."

"Try it."

With a deep breath Lily cleared herself of her calamitous emotions, focusing on just the one. How happy she must have felt when she discovered that strange little boy and listened to the fantasy he had woven. When she brought herself to hesitantly believe that there might be more out there. That she was not a freak. That instead there might be another place where she belonged.

Standing again, she lifted her wand. This time she could feel a thrum of magic in her memory. "Expecto Patronum!" With one great sweep of her wand the silver mist appeared, cast from the tip of her willow wood wand.

Delight swept away any other emotion warring within. With a hesitant hand she reached out to touch the spell work she conjured, revelling in the joy and sense of belonging from the memory she had used.

Turning back to the would-be-young man perched still upon his seat she crowed, "Did you see that? High level charm! Just on my second try!"

"It's a start," was all Severus had to say. No smile, no nod of approval. Just straight faced unflattering delivery.

"Well I can see why your classes weren't popular," Lily harrumphed, but she could not keep the delight off her face, spoiling her mock annoyance.

"Right sorry," Severus muttered, taking her mock offence quite seriously. "It was very good, considering it would be much harder for you."

Lily glanced at him, smiling at his show of effort. "Harder? You mean because I have a lot of good memories to choose from?" He gave a small nod, his eyes drifting away yet again. "Well then mister. How long did it take for you to get from this stage to your corporeal form?"

A small grimace twisted itself across his pale lips. "There was never this stage for me," he answered in a muted tone. "My Patronus came to me with one attempt."

Feeling floored and a little dejected, Lily dropped back onto the smooth knot of the oak root. "One try? What? How?"

"It was easy for me," he muttered. "I didn't have many to choose from. It was obvious which one I should use."

She felt her stomach squirm. H _e loves me._ Her mind whispered.

"What… memory did you choose?" she asked, half afraid to learn. He scowled and turned away, his body language screaming his discomfort to be on this topic yet again.

Lily reached out and laid a hand upon his, causing his eyes to whip around to hers so quickly she feared he might flinch away. But instead he cupped her fingers between his hands. "You're freezing! Again!" he hissed. That almost made her smile. She let him take her hands and envelope them in his own much larger ones, feeling the comforting secondary warmth of the stifling heating charm he was enduring. "If you will not wear the charm, you can at least keep me informed of your wellbeing! I will not have you suffering frostbite for some silly notion of Gryffindor bravado."

"Fine." Lily hooked her fingers around his wrists and stood, pulling Severus to his feet. He stood there momentarily confused as to what she expected him to do, especially when she did not pull her hands from his.

"Sit with me then Sev." She motioned with a quick dart of her eyes and a tilt of her head. Slowly he turned his head, following her eyes to the nook formed by the two roots of the leaning oak.

Without waiting for a response, Lily slipped her hands from his and wedged herself into the V formed by the roots, leaving a small gap of space. Severus settled hesitantly beside her, his body stiff and tense as he brushed close. The space she chose gave him no choice but to sit shoulder to shoulder with her in its cosy nook.

 _He loves me…_

Lily drew in close, feeling the warmth roll off his body in waves, warming her in their tight proximity. She touched her hand against his arm and he took it, took both of them into his own and kept her warm without her spoken request. She wondered if he actually felt as uncomfortable as he looked, if he was as confused by her actions as he seemed.

They were always close, at least before they drifted apart in fifth year. She had always been able to touch him without any meaning, she was just that kind of person, the kind that hugged, and held hands, and offered pats upon the back. She never felt uncomfortable being too close to Severus, and for the longest time she thought he felt no discomfort either. Instead his sullen expression would always perk up, any glumness that darkened his features would instantly lift, and in its place an expression of contentment would settle, like all was right with the world.

It never made her as uncomfortable to touch him as it did now, because he was less content with a meaningless touch, far more cynical of his own prospects.

 _He loves me._

That was the difference now. He was a man who dedicated his whole life honouring a promise to a dead woman he loved. Now she sat here, a poor substitute for the love in his heart, struggling to find any possibility to return it.

She withdrew from the warmth of his palms, prompting him to look back at her with a disapproving wariness. "Don't get cold," he muttered warningly but made no move to take her hands again.

"I'm getting warm enough just sitting beside you," Lily answered, snuggling against Severus in the cosy nook, then stopped. It occurred to her perhaps this shoulder-to-shoulder, leg-to-leg position would render onto him further discomfort. She cleared her throat, suddenly uncertain.

Severus' eyes swung about to meet her, a weariness colouring his black pitted eyes. She could sense the self-deprecation coming on the tip of his tongue. "You don't have to… force yourself to-"

"I'm not forcing myself to do anything-!"

"Don't feel sorry for me!"

Lily started, she hadn't expected him to raise his voice. Severus slumped forward and turned away, hiding his face but she could see the scowl crinkling the skin along his temple. "I don't want your pity," he muttered, his voice suddenly much softer.

A stirring of sadness ached within her heart. "It's not pity Sev." It bothered Lily so much that he would think she was forcing herself to be near him. It spoke poorly of them both. "Despite everything, perhaps because of everything, we find ourselves friends again. It's not pity. I don't want to lose you again."

Still he would not look at her, he sat still, eyes cast out towards the expanse of frozen lake. His wand was in his hand, she hadn't even seen when he drew it, his fingers tracing along the lines of its hilt.

"It's not pity," Lily insisted again, "and… I'm not forcing myself to be with you." He would not turn back to her. "Don't lose hope Sev. Teach me the Patronus." He turned then, the slightest motion. His black pupils glancing to hers briefly. "It'll… let me know." She felt her breath catch as he turned her way, his black eyes glinting with an unfathomable dark emotion. "It'll let me know," she insisted again, willing him to take from her words her willingness to try.

Slowly Severus settled back against the tree, his eyes never leaving Lily's. She could see him letting loose a tense breath, leaving him in a burst of white in the winter air. Disbelief, that was his dark emotion, but whether it was unwillingness to believe her, or believe his own interpretations of her words, she did not know. After a tense moment he finally spoke, in a much softer voice than Lily had been expecting.

"… Discovering you were a witch… that was a life changing moment for you." He muttered.

Lily did not know where he was going with this but she was simply glad he was talking again. "Yes. Of course. If you never told me… well I wouldn't be here."

"No you would still be here," Severus muttered, his eyes trailing away, "you would have still received a visit from a Hogwarts official. It would have simply come as more of a surprise... all I did was introduce you to this world a little sooner."

"I concede your point," Lily returned, smiling despite herself. She liked listening to him speak in this calm, deep tone so new to her.

His eyes glanced briefly to hers, his mouth twitched in mimicry of the smile she bore. "I imagine you might have felt anxious too. Perhaps… even disbelief."

"Well it was hardly a believable concept, even for a nine year old."

"Your happiness, as life altering as it might have been was tempered with your hesitation and doubt. It will not do for a Patronus."

Lily lolled her head back against the oaken trunk. "You mean I have to find a life-changing happy memory completely untainted by negative emotions? How do I even begin looking for something like that?"

His eyes did not leave hers, that intense dark stare that she could do little for but to meet with an air of feigned casualness. Those eyes suddenly dropped, she felt him move, slowly trying to edge away in vain in the restrictive space between the tree's roots. She heard him clear his throat, a nervous sound, a remnant of the boy he had been. "... The memory I chose… had been from that summer when we were in third year."

Her mouth dried suddenly, her piqued interest fanning her sudden nervousness. "Oh god. Please don't tell me it was when we snuck into Petunia's room and-"

"No." He hissed.

It was Lily's nervous reflex to indulge a bad sense of humour, one that she feared was going to cost her Severus' compliance, but to her relief he continued. A little quieter, and a little more withdrawn, but he continued.

"It was… after that. After Petunia somehow found the number to my household and spoke to my father. I met with you in that park the next morning, remember? My face was black and blue."

Discomfort squirmed through Lily's gut. "Yeah. I remember. You told me you fell and hit your head on a step."

Severus looked away. "Yes. I told you that. You didn't believe me when I did." He moved again, a motion that almost felt fidgety. "My father had hit me, but I didn't want you to know."

Lily couldn't help but fidget too, trying hard to recall what she had said to him then.

"But… I think you suspected. You just wouldn't let up and we got into a row."

It was starting to come back to her, that memory of a warm summer's morning spent hidden behind bushes in the park. Severus, younger and angrier, with a face so badly battered his usually sunken right eye had closed over with swelling. She had always suspected…

Her heart clenched.

Severus continued, his eyes cast towards the lake once more, his voice flat, unfeeling. "Your temper flared when you suspected I was lying to you. And in response my temper too…" He trailed away. Lily held her breath, waiting. "I told you to mind your own business…" he continued, barely above a whisper, "You told me… you cared."

Lily sat silent, struck stock still. The white puffs of breath was the only motion upon her.

Severus finally turned, his eyes finding hers once again. His dark boundless eyes. "You were the only person that ever cared Lily. I have never forgotten it."

She felt her heart thud dully within her chest, her emotions lay deep and disconnected from her numb surface.

"Happiness, Lily, the kind you need is not one disconnected from all other terrible context or intrusion," he continued, voice lighter, dark eyes leaving hers. "It's one that makes you ignore all else."

She drew close to him then, her hands gripping his warm forearm, she threaded her fingers through his. She felt him stiffen again but he did not pull away, she could see a touch of discomfort and guilt mingling upon his profile.

"I still care Severus," she muttered, "I never stopped caring. Even when… we weren't speaking."

A small smile touched his eyes, she felt his fingers relax into her own. Slowly she lay her head upon his tensed shoulder, feeling the warmth that radiated from him seep through her frost glazed hair.

A sudden furious crunching of rubber sole upon snow shook both teenagers out of their moment. Severus sat up immediately, dislodging Lily in an almost violent motion, his wand already held defensively before him as his eyes snapped wide with alarm, then narrowed with hatred.

James Potter stood doubled over, breathing heavily, his eyes wide with horror and disbelief. Lily felt her heart drop, this was not a confrontation she was ready for. Not yet. Severus stood then, taking his body heat with him, leaving Lily feeling suddenly alone and cold.

"What is this?" James asked through his panting, his eyes darting from Severus to the girl shrinking between the roots.

"I don't have to answer you!" Severus hissed, looking more than ever like that hate filled child he had once been. Even after all those years, James brought out the worst in him, and it was becoming crystal clear to Lily why her choice had twisted him so badly.

He had just confessed to her that his greatest happiness had been the belief that she cared about him. The only person in that point in his life that had expressed a care for him. The only person, perhaps, for the rest of his life too.

For her to have chosen James, the boy who had acted maliciously towards him, who tormented him relentlessly and destroyed his sense of self-worth...

How could that have been seen as anything other than the recant of her words? How could he continue to believe that she cared about him when she chose the man that had hurt him the most?

Her choice of James left him believing no one truly cared.

She peered up at the Gryffindor boy from her shelter then, seeing his hazel eyes boring into hers through his misted glasses. His breath still huffing lightly despite his limber and fit physique. It spoke of how desperately he had rushed towards them, likely after seeing Severus and her together upon that invasive map of his.

He was a handsome young man, she could not deny this. To think Severus compared to him in looks was kidding herself. He was kind when he wasn't being cruel, and funny when he wasn't being irritating. He was noble when he wasn't being childish. He would become a man that Lily could love. Lily stared, mouth dry, that knowledge beating upon her heart. That she would one day love him.

But that day was not today, he was only a mere crush. He was not someone she'd throw Severus away for. Not this Severus. Not this lifetime.

Slowly Lily pulled herself to her feet. The crunching of snow announced the arrival of the other three Marauders, little Peter wheezing as he struggled far behind the other two. Black stopped beside James, his wand clenched in his hand, ready to back his best friend up in any context. Remus stopped a little further back, his steely green eyes fixed wide upon Lily's. Perhaps he sensed the decision she had made.

"I'm sorry, James," she muttered, feeling each word leave her like a stone sinking into the lake, "I'm sorry for leading you on." She stepped by Severus, taking his hand into her own, feeling the boy beside her stiffen as his rival stared in disbelief. "I choose Severus."

The words left her feeling numb, a moment that seemed to stretch on forever was suddenly broken by a sudden sharp intake of breath. James suddenly stood straight, both hands flying through the back of his hair, sending the strands sticking out this way and that. "Y-you choose him?" His breath was unsteady, whether with disbelief or heartbreak she could not tell.

 _James would be fine. He has so many that love him. He'll be fine._

Her grip tightened upon Severus' fingers causing the thin boy to turn his deep dark eyes towards her. She did not meet those eyes for fear of the doubt she might find there, or an acknowledgement of the shared knowledge for the choice she was making. "I'm sorry James," she breathed, one last time.

With a slow disbelieving shake of his head, James took an unsteady step back, then without a word he turned, trudging slowly back the way he came. Black shot Lily a look of pure loathing before quickening his step to catch up with his heartbroken friend, flinging his arm about the boy's drooping shoulders. Remus withdrew too, his eyes unable to meet hers, Lily did not know what he might be thinking and any guess sent strikes of heartache through her. Only Peter stared at her gormlessly, having arrived too late to hear Lily's softly spoken words. He fell into step beside Black, confusion written upon his soft round face.

"Are you sure?" Severus' voice rumbled through the silence, an urgent edge to his tone.

She turned her eyes up to meet his then, a small hesitant smile upon her lips. "… Help me find my doe," was all she could bring herself to say.

A steely look of determination settled over Severus' dark eyes. Without a word he nodded, his fingers tightening over hers.

* * *

A/N: Alas for all those baying for James Potter's blood, I'm afraid that's simply not the way of this fic. This isn't about Lily comparing the worst parts of the two guys in her life, but the best.

A thank you to my Beta readers Caleo Ignacium and Sattwa100 for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 8th September 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 16: The Cruel Reality**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	16. The Cruel Reality

**Chapter 16: The Cruel Reality**

"I believe congratulations are in order." Urquart's dry voice wafted across the dormitory floor the moment Snape stepped through the doors. Night had fallen, and for whatever reason the common rooms was already mostly vacated.

"Shut up." Snape responded on principle, not quite feeling his heart in his reprimand.

Mulciber sat up from his bed, a contraband magazine fell from over his eyes to his lap. "That Gryffindor girl right?"

"Mind your own business!" Snape snapped. "Gossip anymore and I'd have thought I somehow bypassed the trespassing enchantment and stepped into the girl's dorm."

"Who's gossiping?" Urquart smirked. "I thought lads were supposed to congratulate each other on a successful score."

"Your laudation has been duly noted," Snape muttered dryly, ready to dress down and bunker behind his posters with a book and pretend to read. He cringed at the thought of undressing with so many eyes upon him.

"That Lily girl, is it?" Mulciber asked again, a dark look upon his face. Snape stiffened at the threatening expression, matching the glare warningly. "I weren't gonna do anything to her." He muttered finally dropped his eyes, all semblance of belligerence gone.

"I appreciate your restraint," Snape growled, feeling suddenly mighty protective of her despite her absence from his presence.

"I hear she's a muggle born," Lester piqued up from his side of the room. Eyes wide and curious.

Snape had enough. "She is none of your business! Any of you!" With a swift almost aggressive motion, Snape kicked off his robes and slipped into his nightshirt, almost diving into the shelter of his four-poster. With a few quick flicks of his wand Snape enveloped his bed with silence, finding it within himself to finally relax.

He could not help the excitement that roiled within him despite all grounding reason. That terrible spark of hope that he should have learned long ago to pay no heed. Lily had ditched James bloody Potter right in front of him, with words nobody could misinterpret for anything other than complete rejection.

Elation was what he felt for his greatest enemy's complete defeat. But what did it mean for the boy whose hand she held?

With a flex of his fingers Snape remembered the feeling of her cool fingers clutched within his too warm hand. Her soft skin beneath the tips of his finger, her smooth palm pressed against his own. Of how she held onto him so tightly he felt his fingers going numb, when those fateful words left her lips.

 _I hadn't forced her into that decision. If she comes to regret it, then it's on her._ But even as that thought passed his mind he felt the prickle of guilt across the surface of his skin. There was no way he could honestly believe their conversation in the minutes leading up to that sudden confrontation did not affect her decision.

She chose him out of pity. There was no other way to explain it. And within days to hours she will realise her mistake for that one rash moment of acting upon Gryffindor impulse. He could already see that regret there in her eyes the moment she had turned to him, the moment after she sent the Marauders on their way, sent James Potter out of her future. He could read that fell state of mind upon her very being when she uttered that request once again. To help her find her Patronus.

He understood her apparent rush to find it now, after spilling his heart to her in a sudden apparent flare of sentiment. She was searching for her Patronus, believing somehow it could make her love him back. That wasn't how the Patronus worked, he knew that instinctively. After all the doe was always hers, it was a manifestation of herself without ever needing Severus' input.

Only to him was the creature's form pointedly symbolic of a heart not his own. A form that could never take shape without input from another.

When he first made to cast the spell it had been a night upon the Hallowed Eve, only two years after his great betrayal. When his soul was rent and raw from the guilt he could not cast away. Dumbledore had suggested the exercise as a means to calm his tortured mind. A spell to learn that forced him to sit down and sift through happy thoughts.

That had been the plan, and Severus had loathed the mere thought of it. There was no list of happy thoughts to go through. At most he predicted it to keep him distracted for an hour, before filling him with the depressing knowledge he could not find a single truly happy memory.

But upon the quiet ushered in by the settling of night, beneath the cold lonely light cast by that sliver of the moon that hung forlornly upon the vast empty darkness, Snape brought himself to the lake. He stood where he stood the last he spoke to her. It was not a happy moment for him, it invoked nothing but upsetting memories, but he could not bring himself to move away from that spot.

Wrapped in anger and self-loathing Snape committed to an attempt, finding no alternatives to surviving that night. He closed his eyes, sending his mind to search among the few memories that wasn't seeped in beige, those moments that actually brought colour to his days. The memory came to him surprisingly easily, that one moment that touched his soul more deeply than he had ever felt, branded deeper still than even the dark mark upon his forearm.

" _I care Sev!"_

Those simple words meant more to him than could have been realised at that moment he heard it. He had been too young, too stupid, too angry, and too in pain to fully appreciate what it did for him. It was only on the other side of it all, after all his sins painted too darkly upon him, his mistakes never able to be taken back, did he finally realise.

As the silver doe bound across the calm and darkened lake, Snape fell to his knees weeping bitterly for all that his youthful stupidity had cost him. All that he had lost. And all he had cost the world. All because a stupid little fool took heed of a prophecy and brought it to an evil that could not have been reasoned with. A foolish glimpse into the future had cost Lily her life. The boy who had once called himself her best friend had been the one to condemn her.

He had once thought if he could only take back that one action he would gladly pay any price demanded of him.

A shiver ran up Snape's spine as his tortured wish blared at him from within the abyss of his mind, one that brushed alarmingly with a realisation that floated to the surface.

 _He had killed for a mere glimpse into the future._

Snape's heart thudded in his ears. The implications of those memories within Lily's unprotected mind, and what would happen if they were touched upon by an unfriendly Legilimens. The danger that knowledge put her under.

Kicking out in frustration Snape tossed upon his bed, cradling his head in his hands as his courses of action swam forth from his mind. But his analytical mind knew the truth, there was only one way to make certain of her safety.

He gritted his teeth, and closed his eyes, hating the mockery of choice the world laid upon him.

* * *

The better part of a week trickled by since Lily's first lesson in the Patronus. The weather waxed and waned but their lessons continued daily, usually in the afternoon, and always at that one spot. Severus must have understood how important it was for Lily to attempt this spell outside the confines of a classroom because he never complained about her choice of locale again.

This was a Thursday afternoon, a time that did not clash with either of their schedules. A light dusting of snow was dancing about the air this day as they headed down towards the lake. Severus stalked silently beside her. He had been awfully quiet these past few days, far more than was normal even for this new man.

Lily drew in closer to him and bumped her shoulder to his, prompting him to slow a step and regard her with a thin hesitant smile. She beamed back at him, trying to dispel whatever little funk he worked himself into. It wasn't like she couldn't understand.

He didn't know where their relationship stood, and frankly neither did she.

They still spent a good part of their time on homework, apart or together. Severus never joined her when she sat with her Gryffindor or Ravenclaw friends, and similarly she wouldn't approach him if he had another Slytherin at his table. It wasn't that she still believed the old prejudice against that House, but old survival instincts were hard to quieten. However she can't deny it was uplifting to see the more liberal members of Slytherin already trying to reach out. More than once she saw little glimpses of green among throngs of blue and occasionally yellow. Her heart would swell each time she caught sight of this, filled with happiness and hope at this glimpse of positive change. Hope that the future would not be so dark for people like her.

It was in these times she loved Severus all the more. He had made this change possible and though he tried not to show it she could see how hard he was working to keep the momentum up. Little words of encouragement, or the Slytherin equivalent, exchanged with younger years in the hallways. Small glances to the greens mingling outside their House to assess their wellbeing. Especially poignant his sudden interest in the outcasts, the students that would have otherwise not been able to find a place of peace within their seven years of schooling. Within Slytherin House Lily guessed that might have been the tiny fraction of muggle-borns that had the misfortune of being sorted into that House.

This was the Severus who stood beside her now, still a clever man, but kinder, calmer and wiser than the child she had left by the side of that lake. One who lived through a life of soul rending misery yet still found it in himself to use his painful experiences to create positive change.

This was the Severus Lily used to wish was possible, the kind of Severus she had always hoped he would become. The kind of Severus she had given up all hope for when he slipped further and further away into the darkness.

If it was ever possible for Lily to love him like he did her, Lily knew it could only have been for the Severus he was now. All she could do now is to follow the doe and see where it brings her. And if at the end of her search, if she still could not find a way to love him as he deserved, then the least she could do was to be his true friend and not abandon him to solitude again. Even if they could not be together in the way that he wished, she would continue to be the person that cared.

She reached for his hand swinging by his side. She felt him stiffen as her fingers curled about his, not yet frozen by the bite of the weather. His dark eyes glanced towards her, that little hint of contentment muddled with troubled thoughts surfaced.

He sensed something was changing between them but she doubted he knew how. She hadn't told him how. She hadn't told him what she was trying to do lest she raise his hopes too cruelly.

At the moment at least they were good friends and that appeared enough for him. He rarely touched upon his confession, and never challenged her for her opinion on the matter. He was patient, and Lily appreciated it from the bottom of her heart.

It was just a matter for her to simply speak and listen now, find out as much about his life as he knew of hers, and simply be herself around him as she would have once before. Regardless of the daunting possibilities that loomed before them. They had to keep living life.

"Hey Sev," she began, as most conversations would begin between them recently. With her effort. "They're holding apparition training next month. You're seventeen. Have you signed up?"

A shadow of discomfort passed across his eyes. "I can't afford it."

"That's right…" Lily murmured. She didn't know how she could have forgotten that fact so suddenly. Just because this Severus was a different person to the one she knew didn't mean his situation somehow changed. "But it's not like you need lessons anyway right? You could just go do the test and get your Apparition licence."

A light scowl touched his face, his eyes turned away in apparent shame. "I can't even afford the testing fee."

Lily fell silent, turning over this admission in her head. "How did you manage it the first time around?"

"I… was sponsored. In my seventh year, by Lucius Malfoy." Lily looked at him sharply, feeling the dread at his words. He grimaced, suddenly unwilling to continue, allowing the awful implications of his words to hang between them.

"You were already a Death Eater by seventh year?"

He turned away, hiding his face. "No. But I was well on the path towards that goal."

Lily felt a little burn of anger in her heart. She tried to quell it with the reassurances of the difference this time around but that small smoulder of anger fought to the surface. "Why would you do that? Could you not have waited till you were out there to become horrible?"

He turned back, a matching anger upon his face, desperately masking the flash of hurt beneath. "Did I not just say I was sponsored? If you haven't noticed Lily my life isn't exactly peachy. Just look at these rags I'm wearing!" He scowled, shame burning through his layer of anger. "I grasped at the dignity that was offered."

Lily could not help but feel matching shame at her lack of empathetic awareness, but her mind still swirled wildly about his confession. "When we were smaller my parents would always offer to take you to buy clothes and school supplies. You would never accept. You hated every offer given! Why did you take up this one?"

"There is a difference between sponsorship and charity Lily." His voice suddenly softened. "Your family's offer puts me to shame, it reminds me of all I lacked." His scowl receded, his eyes dark upon hers. "But Lucius' offer was an investment. It was appreciation for the potential I had."

The breath escaped from Lily's lips, creating a harsh sound between breathy laughter and a sigh. "I could never have expected an explanation like that from the old Sev."

His eyes glinted again with that unspoken emotion. "Calm?"

"No." Lily shook her head with that muted smile upon her lips. "Honest, about what hurts you."

Severus squirmed beside her, his fingers still threaded between hers. Even in the sudden flare of emotions he had not let go. "I usually wouldn't have admitted it," he confessed after a moment's hesitation. "It appears you have caused me to drop my guard."

A smile touched Lily's lips. "Because I care?"

His glinting dark eyes were on her again. She felt his fingers tighten briefly around hers.

"So what will you do this time around?" Lily asked, her heart a little lighter by this glimmer of understanding.

He did not answer at first, eyes cast forward towards the approaching lake. After a moment his voice sounded muted and resigned. "Endure. I suppose."

It was Lily's turn to squeeze his hand. "Don't endure everything in silence alright?" She glanced upwards him, willing him to meet her eyes. "I'll be here for you this time so tell me when something is wrong. Don't push away my help."

Slowly his dark eyes turned to her. His step faltered causing them both to halt before the snowy bank of the great lake. Lily hadn't expected the pain she saw in his eyes then, she could not fathom why her words invoked such sadness.

She turned to face him then, bringing her free hand over to his cheek. Those fingers were cold after spending so long exposed to the winter air, but if the shock of her chilled skin upon his cheek startled him he gave no indication. She stroked her fingers along his jaw, feeling the soft smoothness of his still youthful face, watching his eyes grow sadder still. And she could not understand why.

"Hey come on." She prodded his cheek. "Why are you so glum? Give me a smile why don't you."

The corners of his lips twitched upwards in obligation. His attempts at a smile never meeting his sad dark eyes. She felt empathetic sadness stir within her and she did not know why they were feeling so.

"Come on, else you're going to make it difficult for me to find my happy place today." She gave him a weak smile and let her hand dropped from his cheek, his free hand flying up to catch hers as it withdrew. She froze, feeling a little shrill of fear squirm in her gut. Fear that he was going to force her answer at this moment while she was still unprepared.

But that was not the question that came.

"Lily. Later… after dinner. Can you come with me to see Dumbledore?"

Lily glanced at him curiously, the alarm mercifully trickling away along with her settling heart rate. "Your tutorial session? Sure. But why?" The realisation suddenly hit Lily. "He knows right? And now so do I, so you have to tell him about me."

Severus nodded slowly, a small smile edged around his thin lips that never reached his dark sad eyes.

"Hey come on. It's fine." Lily reassured smiling, she couldn't understand why he was so distressed by this. "Dumbledore won't get angry. The headmaster isn't like that. In fact I'll bet he'll be thrilled you've found a companion among your peers. Someone who gets you." She grinned earnestly.

Severus turned away, his voice soft. "That's right. He will be pleased for me." She could not feel his sincerity.

"We've got a few hours till dinner anyhow." She tugged him into motion, headed for the twisted oak once more. "Patronus lessons till then. No sad faces while happiness class is conducted Sev."

* * *

A sliver of nervousness touched Lily's heart when she walked the hallways of the second floor that evening after dinner. In the winter months the sun always set well before dinner, and as a result the post-dinner castle took on the feel of the past-curfew hours. It did not help that Severus walked alongside her, growing more agitated the closer to the office they got.

The gargoyle leapt aside for them at the offer of a password and Lily stepped forward, following closely after her hesitant friend. She didn't understand why he was so scared to reveal her to Dumbledore. What was the worst the headmaster would say? He was not an unreasonable man.

At the door Severus hesitated again, this time quite seriously. As he glimpsed back at her she saw the fear in his eyes, stoking alive the worry that had been gnawing at her since their walk up to the office.

"What's wrong?" Lily asked quite urgently, but he did not answer her. Only stared, silently, before finally closing his eyes and turning back to the door. With a solid rap of his knuckles he announced their presence, and Dumbledore's voice answered without any wait.

"Come in."

No hesitation acted against his fingers braced upon the door handle. With a swift motion he let himself in, Lily following behind him, eyes wide with infectious worry.

The headmaster sat behind his great oaken desk, his phoenix Fawkes upon the perch by his elbow eyeing her with a curious tilt of the head. The Pensieve sat before him in the same place it was the week before. She understood what it was now, she had searched for mention of it in the library. There she had found a tome entitled 'Magic of the Mind' that described it as a bowl that was able to hold a glimpse into one's past, a way for a person to pluck out memories and relive them as they were.

"Why good evening Lily. What a pleasant surprise." The headmaster greeted with a warm smile. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Lily felt the tension melt away upon seeing the headmaster's kind smile. She was about to answer when Severus stepped forward. "She knows."

Immediately the atmosphere of the room shifted. A dark shadow flitted across the once kind eyes of the headmaster. "Did you tell her?" He urged in a gentle voice.

"No!" Severus growled. "For some vexing reason you had left the Pensieve on the table still filled with _**those**_ memories last week."

A sliver of sadness passed over those blue eyes. "I had left that hadn't I? It was intended... But not for her. It was your eyes I hoped it would pass."

"Did you leave those memories to test me?" Severus snarled, enraged.

"Not test. Remind. That we have a complex relationship, and that you have to be more open to complete my picture."

Lily looked around at Severus in alarm but the thin boy refused to meet her eyes, his anger trickling away, quelled by his agony. Slowly the headmaster stood from his desk, taking slow deliberate steps around the great oak structure. Lily never realised how tall Dumbledore was until the very moment she felt intimidated.

"Then, I am very sorry Severus, for putting you into this position."

Lily's heart fluttered with alarm. She darted a glance up at Severus' scowling face, anger and grief awash upon his features. "Is there no other way?"

A small glimmer of sadness touched upon Dumbledore's blue eyes. "You know what he'll do."

Alarmed Lily stumbled back, eyes wide as her pupils darted between the two. "Wh-whats going on?"

Slowly Severus turned his dark eyes towards her. He stared at her with pits of fathomless sorrow. "Lily… the Dark Lord is a Legilimens."

Legilimens, a wizard who could read minds. She learned about them during her evening reading, though it was a Defence topic, she had not yet had it taught in class. Instead she had chanced upon it in a tome about the Mind Arts, the very same that told her of the Pensieve. "Yeah? So?" she breathed, "It's not like he's at Hogwarts."

"No." Severus conceded. "But he has agents amongst the students of Hogwarts… perhaps fewer now, and fewer in the future, but we cannot always be certain." He slowly met her eyes. "And you are not always at Hogwarts. There is always the risk Lily."

"So what? What can we do?" Both pairs of eyes were unable to meet hers, and slowly realisation dawned. "What? No! You want to Obliviate me?"

"I don't want to," Severus growled. "Lords knows I don't want to."

"Then don't!" Lily beseeched desperately. "I don't care about the risks! I need to know this! I need to know you!"

"If the Dark Lord was to be given even a glimpse of what you know-"

"Then teach me to hide it! You can do it right? You know how to hide thoughts. That's how you were able to be a spy for so long back then right?"

Slowly Dumbledore shook his head. "That is no guarantee either."

Severus' dark eyes held hers. "He is not fooled by anyone but the greatest of Occlumens. And even then… it was hard. He could do terrible things to you to extract every last thought."

"You're not doing it! You're not Obliviating me!" Lily backed away, finding smooth wood where the open door should have been. Her eyes widened as Severus approached, his face twisted in a pained scowl.

"Lily listen to me! This is the only way to guarantee your safety."

"Then I don't want it! Damn the risks!"

"Please Lily. I cannot lose you again!" His voice cracked with anguish. "I cannot! It would be my fault again and I cannot!"

Slowly Lily calmed, her own grief lifted the fury over her eyes. She could see clearly how deep the decision had cut the man before her, how it must have been for him to come to this conclusion. She would forget, and with it all the grief and anger she was feeling now.

But he would remember, carrying forever the regret of what could have been. What they had been trying to build upon this ground of mutual understanding. He would be alone once again, and she would be none the wiser about why he was suffering alone.

Tears fell from Lily's eyes as she threaded her fingers through Severus' hair. Pulling him close she enveloped him in an embrace, feeling the tremors upon his frame.

"Thank you… for everything Lily," he muttered in her ear. "Thank you for caring."

Her heart thundered within her chest. "You do what you have to. But… please. Keep my memories. Keep them for me for when I'm ready to have them back."

He drew back, smiling a small trembling smile. He cast a glance back and Dumbledore returned a kindly nod. With a sweep of his hand the headmaster summoned an empty crystal vial from a cupboard. A delicate one with diamond-patterned swirling trails curled upon the shoulder, criss-crossing each other just below the neck. "Only the most beautiful of vials will do for your memories," he offered in a most gentle tone.

Severus took it, his wand already in his other hand. A dark determination filling his grief-ridden eyes. He was readying himself for the loneliness that was to return.

He brought his wand towards Lily's temple, she felt her heart thud within her ears.

He can't be alone.

Reaching forward suddenly, Lily cupped both hands around his cheeks.

"Don't you dare give up on me Severus," she whispered to him as he stared back at her. "Don't you dare block yourself off into your isolated heart." His dark eyes stared at her, glimmering in the dark. "You find me you hear? You find me. And remind me to care."

His eyes widened, his breath catching in his throat.

"You will promise me Severus."

His voice sounded, low and muted. "I promise."

"You promise me you won't leave me be, no matter what I say. You find me and make me listen to you."

His dark eyes glimmered in its darkened way. "I promise."

"You will tell me of your heart. Make me see the new you. Let me see the different man you've become."

A smile edged around his sorrowful expression. "I promise."

"And…" She bit her lip, trying to shake off the hesitation.

 _It is possible._

"Severus." She met his eyes, those dark eyes of a man who would sacrifice anything for her. Had sacrificed everything, just for a memory of her. "Make me fall in love with you."

His words caught in his throat. He choked out a sound of disbelief.

Lily shifted her hands, trailing her fingers up to his temples as she pulled him closer to her.

 _It is possible, Severus._

She touched her forehead to his, feeling the thin film of clamminess upon his brows, his unsteady breath upon her lips, his dark eyes never leaving hers. Her heart beat dully within her ears, the aching cruelty of reality.

That the moment she found him within her heart should be the moment she was forced the let him go.

"Promise me," she breathed.

His eyes steeled before her own. "I promise," he whispered, before suddenly it all went black and she remembered those vows no more.

* * *

The headmaster's office sat in oppressive silence, the two men who remained spoke not a word. Not even Fawkes ruffled a single feather as his Phoenix eyes blinked solemnly at the grieving young man.

Snape sat hunched in the guest chair, in his hands was cupped the crystal vial. He stared blankly as he turned it, swishing about the liquid memories sitting at the bottom. The trickling fluid silver that held the precious hours they spent talking freely, the kindness she offered him, the forgiveness she granted him. All of it she gave freely despite his undeserving past.

All of it, now just memories, held within this vessel between his fingers.

Eventually Dumbledore broke the silence with a slow deliberate tone. "That must have been difficult Severus."

Snape did not lift his eyes, the only indication he heard those words at all was the slight tightening of his grip around the glowing vial.

It had been all too easy for the headmaster when the Obliviated girl came out of her magic-addled state. "Thank you my dear for bringing Mr Snape to see me past curfew." He had said without a moment's abash for that brazen lie. "Be sure to hold onto your own hall pass. We don't want your fellow prefects to mistake you for a rule breaker."

Lily blinked in confusion, and then turned her eyes to the scroll clasped in her hand in apparent evidence to the headmaster's words. With a bright smile free from any lingering doubts, Lily then took her leave, with a cheerful parting wave to the boy who could no longer meet her eyes.

"How much of her memories did you take?" Dumbledore asked in a gentle but insistent tone.

"I took enough." Snape hissed, the liquid sloshing about at the sudden jolting tenseness of his body. The moments of intimate comfort, the moments of empathetic understanding, the undeserving kindness she offered him. To her now, this precious week spent together would be nothing but an exercise conducted by two friends in learning a high levelled charm. He even had to take her memories of his doe, for the only times he had shown it to her had been moments he could not explain without forbidden context.

With a solemn nod Dumbledore stood from his seat. "Tea Severus?" asked the headmaster, his tone no longer marked with the gravity of the moment that passed. "I have a lovely spiced one from the southern orients. Chai I believe they call it-"

"You ask too much!" Those words escaped from Snape in a hiss.

Dumbledore fell silent. Without even turning the headmaster continued to bustle around his tea set, adding milk into a small decorated saucepan.

"The entire world asks too much. Always asks too much of me," Snape muttered, feeling the fight leave him with his pent up breath of anger.

A small porcelain cup and saucer was set before the younger man, steaming hot with odd smells of spices. The headmaster settled into his own chair, a cup of tea lifted to his bearded lip in a silent sip. A long moment of silence passed before Dumbledore finally set the cup and saucer down upon the oaken desk.

"I agree Severus," Dumbledore replied finally. "You have been asked to sacrifice more than any man should have to give." Snape's eyes did not rise from the vial between his fingers, tinged a soft blue by the gentle glow of the precious memories within. "But I see now Severus. You always give, each time it is asked of you. You keep giving no matter how difficult it is for you."

A rush of breath escaped the younger man, almost like the hiccup of a sob he could not contain.

With a ruffle of golden feathers Fawkes finally moved upon his perch, his golden eyes never leaving the wizards before him. From within the beast's magical form came the first beautiful notes of a haunting song. It lit a burning pit in Snape's hollow heart, a warmth he thought he could never feel again.

That spark of hope that could only exist alongside courage.

Finally he raised his eyes, his black pitted eyes, burning with anger, yet steeled with determination. "All for her," he growled, "my loyalty and my sacrifices has always been for her."

A small smile twinkled in Dumbledore's blue eyes. "I doubt you no more Severus. You are no dark wizard."

* * *

A/N: Muahaha and so on and so forth. Didn't think it was gonna be this easy didja?

A thank you to my Beta readers Caleo Ignacium and Sattwa100 for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 22nd September 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 17: A Glimpse of his Heart**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	17. A Glimpse of his Heart

**Chapter 17: A Glimpse of his Heart**

The giggles were beginning to get to her. Lily glared across the breakfast table at the ridiculous Susan, still making those little tittering sounds she calls a laugh. Beside her Mary threw Lily an apologetic look. That girl never gossiped, a fact that Lily would be forever grateful for.

"Oh my goodness. We were just practicing the Patronus!" Lily exclaimed throwing her hands up in defeat, unable to hold it in anymore.

From down the table James glanced up from his meal. She briefly caught his eye before he quickly turned away, a strange aura of dejection about him. She recalled having rejected him again recently, when he had chased her to the lakeside, likely to disrupt her Patronus lessons with Sev. But that couldn't have been it, that was over a week ago and she's never know a rejection to keep him down. Lily had never thought that boy could ever be kept down. She's never seen a funk last past a good night's sleep, certainly not like how he's acting now.

The Gryffindor girl turned back to her breakfast, two slices of buttered toast, sausages, beans and hash browns with a side of grilled tomatoes. She didn't know why but she was famished when she awoke this morning, like she spent all evening committed to some heavy spell work or other. But she knew she couldn't have had the time to do that, after all she had to run errands for the headmaster.

He had needed her to fetch Severus, who for whatever reason decided to play hooky for his tutorial session. A fairly straightforward errand that wound up taking her the better part of the evening. Why Severus had been so reluctant to come was beyond her, but honestly it wasn't unexpected, she had noticed him acting unusually moody this past week. But then again, this was Severus, moodiness was never unusual with him.

Lily glanced across the hall to the boy in question, moodiness just radiating off his thin frame as he glared down his bowl of porridge like the oats had just insulted him. As if he felt her gaze he glanced up, his dark eyes drawn immediately to hers. She shot him a grin, trying to make him crack a smile, or at least stop looking so dour but all she manage to do was cause him to drop his gaze with an air of confusing abashment.

"Making kissy faces also part of your Patronus training?" Susan's irritating teasing drew Lily's eyes back to her table. If this keeps up she'll be housing a Sev scowl.

"For the last time Susan! Sev and I are friends!" Honestly a bigger gossip there could not be. No scratch that, Petunia perhaps, but even then it'd be a close contest. Maybe that was also part of the reason why Susan rubbed Lily in all the wrong ways.

With a helpless look she beseeched Marlene for assistance, but the tall girl only offered a hesitant smile. "Well… You do spend a lot of time with him lately."

 _Eu Tu Marlene?_ "The Patronus is hard! It is a high levelled charm!"

"Yeah. And about that. I never got why you were so interested."

Lily opened her mouth to answer before she paused, her mind was surprisingly blank when she had reached for the answer. "… Because. It's a charm. And I do charms." She offered lamely.

"And you've never asked any of us to help. Why always him?"

"Because he can already cast it." Lily answered confidently, but as she paused to think about it, he never really offered any real evidence to support that assertion. She was beginning to feel a little silly and was exceedingly thankful that Marlene didn't press further on that line of questioning.

"If you say so Lily..." the blond girl sighed, poking at her eggs and bacon distractedly with her fork. "And I know you're friends with him again and everything. But. It's just that you never spend any time with us anymore since you started this Patronus program."

A little abashed, Lily finally conceded, "You're right. I'm sorry Marlene. You're my best friend too and I haven't been acting it lately. So how can I make it up to you?"

A bright smile immediately lit up Marlene's face. "For starters you can come watch my Quidditch practice this afternoon! We're at such top form!"

"Done and done." Lily grinned at her best friend's infectious smile. Marlene was easy to please unlike some other best friends.

"And while we're at it, we can discuss how we want to celebrate your birthday."

"Oh that's right!" Somehow Lily had completely forgotten about that. "Next Sunday!"

Marlene's face fell. "It's a Sunday? Dang. I was hoping we'd skip class."

Mary leant over. "It's your seventeenth too. Big important wizarding age if I recall." As another muggle-born, Mary was wonderful support over the years. She understood all of Lily's worries and fears, and took equal note of what others raised in the magical community considered mundane.

"A big party is the only acceptable outcome." Marlene nodded solemnly. "Right in the common room. We'll kick everyone else out. Only party animals allowed."

"Sure you wouldn't prefer to spend your special day alone with Se~v?" Susan and her pigheaded one tracked mind.

Lily rankled. "No. But I will invite him."

Marlene shirked. "Really? To our common room?"

"It's not like there's a rule against it." Lily muttered, a little flustered. Only after saying it aloud did her mind begin catching up to what she was proposing. Inviting a Slytherin up into the Gryffindor common room. She'd start a riot.

"You should invite him." Lily whipped around, disbelief at whose voice those words carried on. James, looking half in disbelief himself, but still somehow wholly determined, repeated again. "Invite him. He should be there for your most important birthday."

Lily stared, still not convinced she was actually hearing what she was hearing.

"It's fine Lily." James said coolly as he turned away, sweeping his fingers through the back of his messed up hair. "If anyone gives him a hard time in there we'll do something about it."

Beside him Black scowled, evidently not completely in agreement with his best friend. "I agreed to swipe nosh and butter beers, not this." He groused under his breath. But even as Black grumbled Lily knew it was more in protest than intent. James' earnestly spoken word was always true, and his promises as good as bound the rest of the Marauders as well.

Lily couldn't help the surprise that emerged from her smile. "Thanks James. I really appreciate it." The usually bold boy returned the smile in a hesitant, almost reluctant way. He had given up on her that much was certain now. She felt her stomach twist at the thought. She had rejected the boy over and over again over the years and always he would bounce back, but this time it looked as if it was one rejection too many.

Honestly she had no right to feel the bite of rejection as well, after all wasn't she the one who kept refusing him? She wasn't trying to string him along, she honestly disliked his arrogance and his overconfident belief that everything is his to take, such as the only girl in all of Gryffindor who appeared to be resistant to his charms. The only girl he committed to pursuing relentlessly. She never gave him the satisfaction of knowing how close he got to wearing her down, and now it appears she'll never need to. But that still didn't stop the irrational regret of what could have been.

Marlene slammed her hands down onto the table, rattling the plates and cutlery and making Lily jump. "Alright then. That's settled. Party on the Sunday after next! Invites only! Unless of course you're Gryffindor. Gryffindors get automatic entry." She grinned down the table at the eager eyes of the younger lions.

"Be sure to get your homework complete on the Saturday." Pandora helpfully supplied with a radical dose of wishful thinking.

Lily grinned, unable to stop herself from catching this infectious excitement. The slightly louder clamour of the Gryffindor table drew curious glances from the other tables. From across the hall those black eyes drew to Lily's green ones once more. She could not help but wonder why the more she smiled, the more sorrow those fathomless depth seemed to reflect.

* * *

It was all Severus could do to not lose heart. Lily had cancelled their Patronus lessons the very morning her memories disappeared. She did not even keep his hopes up until the lunch period he was supposed to collect her at. She simply walked up to his desk at the beginning of Transfiguration class and told him there and then she was taking a break from their lessons.

Snape could only nod as she smiled brilliantly back at him, oblivious to all that had transpired between them. All that she was betraying with such nonchalance. All that she had asked him to fight through to find her again.

" _Make me fall in love with you."_

After then he heard not a word that she said, embroiled in the screaming agony of his own mind. Railing against the impossible nature of promise he made. There was hope for them then, when by her own words she saw the best in him. What could he do for a Lily who had no notion of any of the sacrifices he had made? A notion he could not give her.

An elbow to the ribs jolted Snape out of his brooding, a high toned hiss in his ear. "She's waiting for an answer."

He noticed those green eyes staring at him then, eagerly awaiting a response, that smile that adorned her peachy lips slowly slipped away. "No interest huh?"

"I'm sorry. What was the question?" Beside him Urquart buried his face in his palm. After isolating himself for five years he had the cheek to judge Snape on his poor social conduct. The brat can judge him when he learns etiquette himself.

"Was the idea of coming up to the Gryffindor Common room so outlandish it rendered you brain dead for a moment there?" Snape looked closely at Lily's pouting smile, trying to reassure himself she wasn't actually as angry as her tone seemed to indicate. She did have a tendency to tease, and though he had a strength in detecting sarcasm and cheek in hostile students, it was not his strength to discern attitude delivered bereft of ill intention.

"Forgive me. I am having a hard time understanding why I should set foot in that den of head-ache inducing rowdiness." A sharp elbow lanced into his ribs again. Snape was doing his utmost to not snap at Urquart for his continual physical irritation.

Lily's face fell. "Sev. Weren't you listening at all?"

Snape squirmed in his seat. "I heard 'Gryffindor Common room' and phased out."

"Did you also hear 'party'?"

"Must have been part of the problem."

With a dejected frown Lily withdrew. "That's a shame. I really wanted you there for my birthday."

Snape sat up with a start. "What? You're talking about next Sunday?"

"You really weren't listening."

With a wince of abashment Snape muttered. "Sorry. I have a lot on my mind."

The annoyance in Lily's eyes immediately softened. "Alchemy still giving you grief?"

"Yes." He lied. Efficiency in that subject was still eluding him but it was well beyond his current state of consternation.

"Was that why you were so reluctant to see Dumbledore last night?"

Snape could not meet her eyes. "Part of it." This was where the lies begin. The inescapable world of lies that even death could not free him from.

A gentle hand folded over his own. Empathy offered for unknown dishonesty. "Don't wear yourself out worrying over it okay Sev? If anyone can do it it's you." Snape could not bring himself to take any comfort offered by her words or her touch. "Come to my party, or don't. It doesn't matter. Just take care of yourself alright Sev?"

With a sympathetic smile Lily left to take her seat, McGonagall having just swept into the classroom. Snape stared on, having not given an answer.

Beside him came the exasperated mutter. "You _**cannot**_ be this bad at this!"

* * *

The party was scheduled for the Sunday afternoon, Snape had been sure to inquire to the delight of Lily. As reluctant as he was to enter the lion's den and partake in that head-splitting frivolity, he was not about to pass on Lily's seventeenth birthday. He would grasp any opportunity to spend time with her. Time he needed to find a way back into her heart. And time offered by her was time he did not have to exhaust her patience to obtain. There was an extent to how needy he could permit himself to look.

But looking needy was going to be the last of his problems if he was going to gift her what he planned to gift her that day. Snape sighed as he fidgeted with his pocket watch, feeling the weight of the Quaffle-sized plain parcel he carried in that same pocket. Within it held the present he spent all week working on, so carefully crafting it for fear of damaging the precious material.

A gift that held more meaning than the words he was able to simply say.

He hoped with it he'd be able to keep at least one of his promises to Lily while being able to keep his dignity intact. He would show her his heart, without relenting a word of humiliating futility. So when she delivers her rejection, he could at least take solace in his pride, and be comforted in the knowledge he kept his promises to the best of his ability.

" _Make me fall in love with you."_

That had been the final askance from a Lily that absolved him. A promise he made without any belief he could truly keep it. A promise that only served to drive the point in deeper. That ache for what could have been. A promise she had forced him to make when the path forward had closed to them. An exercise in the futility of hope.

That had likely been her intention, to embed within him that spark. To encourage him to hold on to that hope even when they both knew there was none. But there was no hope in the heart of the cynical. Just the heavy weight of duty, to which his promise added to like a pebble within a quarry.

All the same. A promise was a promise.

As the afternoon of that Sunday rolled around Snape straightened his robes as best he could. Even on weekends he wore his tatty school robes, he did not have a single set of non-uniform robe to call his own and there was no way in this life or the next he would touch his pathetic muggle clothes willingly. Snape sighed into the mirror, knowing all too well how poorly he looked. As the only Slytherin in a party at the Gryffindor Common room he was already going to stick out, the shabby uniform would not ease the introduction.

At the very least he'll not have to contend with the Marauders. Lily had guaranteed him their compliance, more still she had conveyed to him their offer to guarantee Snape's safety in their domain. An offer Snape had snorted at in derision and disbelief. At the very least this day will gift him with cowed Marauders. He would enjoy provoking them with no fear of retaliation, or the satisfaction of seeing them break their promises and invoke the wrath of Lily.

A flash of remorse ruined Snape's amusement. The thought of doing anything to ruin Lily's seventeenth birthday sent his stomach into flips of guilt.

Snape sighed as he turned from the bathroom mirror, surrendering his efforts on his appearance as well as the thought of provoking his hobbled enemies. If anything was to ruin Lily's day it should not receive help from him.

With a resigned set of his shoulders Snape exited from the dormitory bathrooms, with all intention to head straight through for the party. But he knew, the moment he set foot into the Slytherin Common Room that he would be terribly delayed.

"-Bleedin' disappointment to all that your family stands for Mulciber!"

Snape froze in his tracks. He stared at the growing commotion wondering how he missed the shouting from the bathroom.

"Back off Travers. If you not noticed you're outnumbered." The unintimidating voice of Urquart lanced through. In the centre of the common room, two factions were at loggerheads. Urquart stood firm beside the hulking form of Mulciber. Lester, though terrified, stood his ground beside the two. Before them was Wilkes and Travers, the two seventh year members of Snape's old Death Eater gang, and the only two that still stood publicly against him.

Though there was little delusion to be had about how most of the young Death Eaters felt about this shift, they at least valued the protective shelter Snape's decree gave them from hostilities from the other Houses. Like any true Slytherins, once finding themselves out of favour, the less prominent members of the Blood Supremacists hid away, publically wearing the mask of neutrality while privately harbouring their grudges. As far as Snape was concerned Travers and Wilkes were being unseemly brazen about the whole affair, essentially wearing their hearts upon the sleeves and going about the issue like a good Slytherin wouldn't.

Around the commotion the younger years withdrew to the edges, eyes locked pointedly at the very public show of power playing out in the middle. Some eyes were eager, the unmoved hoping for the rallying cry of the old order, while many others looked on apprehensively, fearing for the exact same outcome. Near the door that descended to the dormitories stood Avery and Rosier, their eyes clouded with undisguised interest, but they at least were Slytherin enough not to break their illusion of neutrality.

"Outnumbered? By you Urquart?" Travers sneered. "That brick head Mulciber is all bulk and no bite. And without his daddy's backing he's lost all of his teeth. That leaves what? You and that mudblood? He looks like he's about to wet his pants. What of it Urquart? You think yourself good enough to play the army?"

"I should certainly think it would be unwise to harass Urquart so, Travers," Snape drawled, drawing all attention from all sides, "or have you forgotten that his uncle is the Senior Administrator of Wizengamot, Elphinstone Urquart?"

With a startled motion Travers spun to face Snape while Wilkes took an involuntary step back. Urquart however smiled and nodded, a seemingly casual movement that spoke volumes of his relief. "Thought you left for that Gryffindor party Snape."

"And why would I want that splitting headache? Spare me." Snape growled, striding into the common room, parting the occupants before him. "I would much rather see what this is about."

"Snape!" Travers hissed, drawing his wand. Before he could level it fully Snape drew his own, taking his duelling stance before the boy could even fully draw. As a youth Snape's duelling stance was that of a thug, but now he was as lithe as a fencer. Around them the watchers drew back, allies and enemies alike. Their eyes fixed fearfully upon the scene playing out before them.

Wilke's wand was out too, he stood beside Travers, feet planted wide in his own duelling stance. Urquart drew as well but Snape waved him down, eliciting a murmur across the watching crowds. Snape could see in Travers' eyes the fear ebbing forth, warring with his pride. He was stuck, he could not back down without confessing his fear to all who watched. It was not just Snape he feared, but the response he could elicit from the crowds. It was unlikely a two against one fight against Snape would remain so, especially when bystanders had jumped to his defence in the past.

However there was no way for them to know that crowd participation would be the least of their problems if they were to duel. Even two against one Snape had more than twenty years of combat experience on the boys. Without the element of surprise the ungraduated and inexperienced boys stood no chance against a true veteran. It would be quite the humbling for the two to be taken down by a single opponent, a proper lesson taught to be sure. But this was not the example of Slytherin unity Snape wished to impress upon them. It was no longer a luxury afforded to him to act without consequence.

With a slow deliberate motion Snape lowered his wand. Though neither Travers nor Wilkes lowered theirs he knew with a glanced upon their minds that neither wished to aggress with their odds out of favour, but things would not end quietly.

"You're a bleedin' disgrace Snape!" Wilkes suddenly spat, eyes burning with hatred. "If Salazar could see what Slytherin's become he'd spit upon his House! You perverted everything Slytherin stood for!"

No emotion stirred upon Snape's face, a blank mask upon his calm soul. The words of these children disturbed him not, accusing him of betraying the values of Slytherin was not the path to his guilt. "Oh? Invoking the name of the Great Salazar Slytherin for your own little disagreement are you? Hiding behind the robe skirts of the great ancient dead?"

"You know his relevance! Don't you dare deflect!" Travers hissed, enraged. "Salazar Slytherin made his stance against Mudbloods clear! He was the original champion for blood purity! And you Severus Snape, half-blood filth that you are, have spat on his noble legacy!"

With a derisive smirk Snape drawled. "Oh by all means indulge yourself about that point in our Founder's nature. Don't at all give pause to the fact he valued cunning, ambition and resourcefulness above all else. The qualities that brought us all to his sphere to begin with."

"Who's forgetting that?" Travers replied through bared teeth. "Some of us are true Slytherin unlike you."

"Oh excuse me then because it appears I must have been sorted into this House by mistake." Snape sneered with such vehemence Travers recoiled instinctively. "I forget my cunning and resourcefulness play second fiddle to you pure bloods. Yet here I stand, above you in skill, strength and mind. And dare I say, power. Why, how on earth had that happened?" With a casually lifted eyebrow and a tilt of the head Snape regarded his furious opponent. "Well? Answer me oh Pure Blood Slytherins. Why have you not triumphed?"

The answering silence was saturated with tension. The eyes of the watching crowds fixed upon the figures standing still in the centre. The two seventh years tense and furious, with wands drawn, staring down their far smaller and unarmed opponent. His stance and expression untouched by fear or anger, almost mocking in his calm.

"And it is with such meagreness you wish to lord over each other?" Snape saw a twitch in Travers' hand, within his eyes Snape read the rising aggression in the boy. That tell-tale warning of a fool who cannot win a fight with his words. "Every one of the students here today is here because we possessed qualities of a Slytherin. Every one of us had been chosen by the only modern remains of the will of Salazar Slytherin himself. The Sorting Hat, the vessel that was forged with the combined intellects of all four founders. Yet his will apparently means nothing to you proud Pure Bloods who pick and choose among us. Pit us against each other to squabble for a place within our own House. Weakening us in our division."

"Competition is how we grow strong." Wilkes challenged, his voice still strong with certainty.

"So strong that we only win one House Cup in a dozen." Snape retorted. In his previous lifetime it was only after he took up mantle as Head of Slytherin did yearly victory become synonymous with their House. "We sabotage our own efforts with our division. So much so that even those feckless Hufflepuffs find victory more often than we do."a

Travers was not relenting. "It is the weak among us that drag us down."

"Weak?" Snape sneered. "You mean like those of us who were born privileged? Who never fought a day in their life for anything?" He saw that tremor in Travers' hand again, and that tell-tale tightening around Wilkes' eyes. "Pray tell me oh-glorious Pure Bloods. In what way are you stronger than a mere Half-Blood like me?"

"Like this!" Travers Snarled, his wand swinging forth with a silent curse.

It took the barest of effort to brush that spell aside, even from his apparent unprepared stance. Wilkes barked roughly, unable to muster the dark arts without invocation. It too joined its counterpart dispersed in the frigid dungeon air.

The room plunged into silence once more, eyes of the watchers round with admiration and shock. Snape stepped forth, his wand held aloft, seemingly plucked from nowhere. He met those hateful but unsurprised glares of Travers and Wilkes, so easily provoked into a display to their own detriment. A Slytherin was cunning, resourceful and above all patient. If ever there was ever a time to make a move against Snape it was not now, not when that known talent was confident and prepared. Not when all eyes were upon them, judging their failure. Not when their failure proved the Half-Blood's point.

Snape did not move to retaliate, nor did he need to. Slowly Travers and Wilkes lowered their wands, too late their Slytherin minds finally catching up with their tempers.

"One small victory Snape." Travers warned in a low growl, a sinister smile creeping across his lips. "But don't think the Dark Lord would be so merciful when he learns of you twisting the ideals of his once great House."

The air changed suddenly, the victorious calm evaporated, replaced with the thickened silence of fear the mere suggestion of _his_ moniker would invoke.

The fear Snape felt in his heart even now.

A fear he could not allow himself to express.

"I did not expect him to be merciful either way." Snape growled, standing unbowed. "I will not be a slave out of fear.

"Then you should have been a brave fool of a Gryffindor!" Wilkes Snarled.

Snape grimaced, shaking his head slowly, his dark eyes glaring forth. "I do not need to be a Gryffindor to be brave."

"But you'll die screaming like one!" Travers hissed, spinning on his heels to march towards the hidden wall out of the Common Room, parting the circle before him. After a moment's hesitation Wilkes followed, his anger warring with his wisdom.

"Perhaps, if that is my fate." Snape glared after them, watching them slip out from the shifting brickwork. He turned slowly to regard those who remained. "But until that time comes I will choose to stand amongst any of Slytherin House, no matter their beliefs, no matter their desired path in life. Within Hogwarts we remain allies, even if we are destined to become enemies." His eyes drifted along those wide expectant eyes, lingering on the ones he knew whose destinies lay in darkness. Regulus Black met his eyes briefly before turning away in apparent boredom, his mind a fortress against Snape's glancing peek. Near the dormitory stairs Rosier and Avery averted their eyes and without meeting them Snape's poor social abilities could not discern fear from assent.

With a sweep of his cloak Snape strode to the fire-side armchair, settling himself in a symbolic gesture. With a silent beaconing he summoned his three companions, Urquart responding quite readily and without hesitation, Mulciber with an almost calm acceptance, Lester trailed behind, still uncertain and fearful.

"I wish to speak to you two." Snape spoke with a pointed look towards Urquart and Mulciber, two well-known Pure Bloods with very differing views associated with their family names. "I wish to know of your view on Blood Purity."

Urquart huffed a half laugh, half sigh. "If I believed that rubbish I'd not have been locked in loggerheads with Slytherin for so long."

Mulciber however looked away, unable to meet Snape's eyes. "Its… kind of everything I was taught y'know." He muttered. "I still think being a pureblood is a big deal. Not that I'd want to kill you Lester!" He turned quickly to reassure the pale muggle-born who stood beside him.

An amusing reassurance from a boy Snape once knew to be a vicious enforcer of those very ideals. A boy who would have gone on to become the murderer of muggle-borns and blood traitors. A boy who would become every bit a Death Eater as Snape ever was.

He was not evil yet.

None of these Slytherin children were evil yet.

"Then let it be known, that conflicting views of this issue can coexist." Snape said in his deep commanding voice. "Believe what you want, and live how you wish. There is no reason for Slytherin to continue to self-cannibalise. Leave the battlegrounds outside of your school years."

It was not an explicit dismissal but Slytherins knew how to read between the lines. Slowly the circle dispersed, the common room returning to its hub of casual activity.

With a relenting sigh the combative Urquart leaned against the back of Snape's chair, exchanging glances with the still awkward Mulciber. "Well Snape. I disagree with everything those Death Eaters stand for but I do not disagree with what you're trying to do. I will not rock the boat."

"I appreciate the restraint." Snape muttered sardonically.

"Yeah. No need to worry about me neither." Mulciber offered. "I'm cool with Lester. He's alright." The muggle-born boy grinned back gratefully. "And I suppose I'm cool with your Gryffindor girlfriend too." He relented with a mumble.

"Speaking of which. Don't you have her birthday to attend?" Urquart reminded with a lilting drawl.

Snape ran his fingers down his smooth chin and leaned back in his seat, stifling a solemn sigh. "No. I don't believe my time today would be well spent amongst Gryffindors." Not when Slytherin needed him more. Though he loathed to disappoint Lily so, he had the feeling she would understand this time. To pursue a problem that still could be fixed, rather than pine after a foolish desire he had no hope with succeeding.

Make her fall in love with him she had said. He was no fool. What hope he may have had dissipated under the spell flare of his own Obliviate.

No wisecrack elicited from Urquart, nor reassuring platitude from Lester. Mulciber stood easiest amongst the three, a pleased smile upon his would-be-gormless face. Everyone shared in silent gratitude for Snape's decision to stay with their house through their tumultuous day. For once the situation could only benefit from his presence.

Snape sat back in quiet contemplation as he scanned across the Slytherin Common Room. His mind upon the last time he saw his students in his previous life. Across the battlefield the Hogwarts defenders had gathered, students from Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff stood side by side in their tense last stand. Among them not one Slytherin face stood out.

He had always wondered if truly no Slytherin volunteered their service for their school. Was there truly not a single one who wished to fight upon the side of right? To earn a measure of redemption for their House?

Or had they been denied their chance by a mistrusting world?

* * *

The grey light faded from the flurry bitten windows, night had set in true. Lily glanced about the common room for the hundredth time trying to spot that familiar lurking form of that boy who had promised to be here for her birthday. Surely he hadn't been turned away at the door. She was trying to keep a close eye on it in case someone took it upon themselves to turn away a Slytherin, with or without invitation.

Lily made another track around the lounging students, keeping the corners in careful observation. If he did enter without her notice then honestly that's where he'd be. She didn't befriend him for six years without knowing how lousy he'd be with crowds and noise, unfortunately the classic party staple.

A sudden butter beer appeared out of nowhere and into Lily's hands. A muscular yet feminine arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her into Marlene's curtain of golden hair. "C'mon Lil's. Loosen up and enjoy your own damned party. Don't let one idiot's absence keep you down."

"He promised he'd be here." Lily murmured, taking a generous gulp of the lightly alcoholic sweet drink.

Marlene sighed and directed Lily around a couple of snogging fourth years, _Boy, they're starting early these days,_ and deposited her friend on a beanbag that someone had conjured and left in the corner. "Yup, welcome to the number one lesson in life, Lily. Boys don't keep their promises."

Lily sighed. "Not exclusively boys. Everyone has their off days, Sev's no exception. I'm actually getting kind of worried something happened to him on the way here. Do you think someone turned him away at the portrait?"

"Or. He could have chickened out." Marlene replied pointedly. "You do remember he is a Slytherin. Gryffindor home turf is not exactly a welcoming place for their kind, and last I check courage isn't on their check list."

Lily rolled her eyes. "Loyalty isn't on the Gryffindor list either but I'd like to think we know how to function as friends."

With a smirk Marlene leaned over and with her wand and a low mutter summoned a plate of appetisers. "Sausage roll or Pasty?"

"You have got to learn to learn to summon wordlessly." Lily grumbled as she gingerly picked up the crescent shaped pastry from the assorted offers.

Marlene sighed and put the plate down on a footstool that slid over without apparent magical beckoning. "Come on Lil's don't ruin your birthday for me."

"Birthday girl!" A loud bellow rang out from across the room. James Potter stood grinning and waving from the edibles table. Most of the items on offer today were procured by his team of Marauders. "When you gonna cut the cake?" Somehow he managed to get his hands on an impressively decorated frosted chocolate sponge cake as well, with Lily's name iced onto it in bright white letters to boot.

Lily sighed and pulled herself to her feet. "Well, can't stall this any longer."

"Yeah sucks your Snapey friend can't make it for the cake. Maybe we'll save him a slice if he's coming."

"Don't bother. He hates sweets."

With candles extinguished and wishes cast, Lily retired to her corner once more with her slice of dessert plated, this time choosing an armchair with a coffee table in proximity. As she set her sweet treat down, James stepped over to the vacant seat opposite. Marlene had taken charge of the cake distribution against all advisement.

"Hey, is that your Coming of Age watch?" James asked before he even touched his seat. "Is it muggle make?"

Lily smiled and shook her head and offered out her left hand, displaying the elegant silver piece banded around her wrist. "My dad got it for me but this is a properly enchanted watch." It was from the same place she had gotten Severus his pocket watch actually, bought at the same time. They had both been picked out by her which went some ways to explaining why their functions and designs were so similar. Moon-phase tracking was important for anyone with an interest in potioneering and ingredient gathering, as well as those with a friend in a werewolf.

"Hmm. Always thought you'd get a muggle watch for your seventeenth." James bantered.

"Why?" Lily couldn't help that little twinge of annoyance. "I want a magical watch like any witch or wizard."

The boy shrugged with an easy smile. "Just thought it'd be easier for your family to get you a muggle one than a magical one. I mean it's not like they'd know what to look for here."

Returning his lopsided grin Lily conceded his point. "We got it at that enchanted Trinkets shop in Diagon Ally. I helped him pick it out." Though James pointed out Lily's muggle heritage with annoying frequency he never meant it in any malicious way. His questions often stemmed from curiosity and some assumed ignorance. He did not deserve to be met with the reflexive antagonism Lily found she had cultivated every time someone mentions her muggle roots.

It wasn't that she was ashamed of being muggle born. It was more a sensitivity that had mostly developed in the past year, the year she had begun fighting with Severus over the issue of Slytherins and their blood purity ideals. With his efforts now it was perhaps a tension she would be able to lay to rest.

James laid his hands upon Lily's offered wrist, his touch jolting Lily out of her miring thoughts. She struggled to suppress the blush creeping up her neck as he turned her hand around in his. "It's really quite well made." He offered.

"What is?" She brainlessly asked.

He chuckled like she had just told a joke. "Your watch. Well-crafted and I can see it's got some solid enchantments laid on it. My family's one of those ancient artefact hoarders so I kinda get to see enchantments in my day to day life." He could not help that smidge of smug arrogance in his tone that never failed to wipe the creeping brush clean away. Lily was always thankful that she found self-absorption such an immensely unattractive quality. It stopped her from acting a silly goose around the consistently flirty and honestly quite handsome James Potter.

"Thank you, James." She replied in a now even tone. "I appreciate your expert input."

The smug boy grinned. "I could do one better. How about I charm it to sing Happy Birthday for you every year?"

Lily quickly retracted her hand from his grasp. "No. Thanks but that's quite alright." That would get very embarrassing very quickly. And with a charm overlaying an enchanted object, she could not dispel the offending spell for fear of interfering with other enchantments weaved upon it. Though she had read the kind of spell work that are laid on an enchanted pieces had a different mechanism to them and could not be broken by simple dispels, Lily did not wish to risk it.

Not at all off put by Lily's indirect rebuke, James grinned and settled in his chair. His quick clearing of his throat alerted Lily to ulterior motives behind this conversation and sent her stomach into nervous flutters. "Well since I can't impress you with my spell work then thank goodness I bought you a gift instead." He fished a flat pearl-trimmed velvet box from within his pocket.

"Oh James you didn't have to get me anything." Lily muttered in a flustered tone as he pressed the box into her hands. Hesitantly she lifted the highly decorated lid of the ridiculously expensive looking box and could not even find it in herself to put any surprise into her gasp. Upon a bed of fine silk sat a fine golden necklace, crafted with intricately spun gold twisted into vine-like patterns around three small rubies so finely cut that they shone unreasonably bright in the candlelit dimness of the afterhours common room. A beautifully elegant piece that would have sat about her neck like a golden choker.

"I can't accept this!" Lily choked out, entirely too flustered by the expensive gift.

James' smile faded. With a nervous motion he ran his fingers through the back of his hair, Lily had gotten good at deciphering his moods by that single motion. "Yeah I get it's a bit much for between friends." He muttered, his discomfort becoming more apparent with every word. "And if I were to be perfectly honest I had planned to ask you out on your birthday using this gift."

"Well I certainly can't accept it now." She snapped the box shut and tried to push it back into James' hands.

With a rough motion James shoved it back to her. "I said I was. But. I get it you know. I'm backing off." Lily stared at him in surprise. She had never anything could ever pierce that boy's armour of invincible confidence. "But I still want you to have it. One big Coming of Age gift between friends." He smiled his dazzling smile, as Lily's heart made confused flailing circuits about her head. "So come on what do you say Lily?"

"I-I don't know what to say." _He truly is over me._ Conflicting emotions fluttered about her breast.

"Ah well if it's the expense you're worried about, don't be." With a dismissive flick of his hand James arrogantly crowed. "It's worth measly pocket change compared to my family fortune."

Lily had to hand it to him, he knew how to strip down her emotions at the drop of a hat. "Then I graciously accept. Thank you James." She slowly pried open the box again, watching the light play lazily across the beautiful trinket.

"Want me to help you put it on?" James offered, his smile trickling away, mingling with a strange wistful frown.

Lily smiled, uncertain with what distance she should treat him with now. "Please." She finally relented, offering him back the box. With a surprisingly delicate motion James removed the necklace from its lavish bed and approached. Lily froze as the tall boy stepped behind her and looped it under her chin, laying the ornament across her collarbone. With a stuttered breath she felt her hair brushed aside, feeling those calloused fingers brushed against her neck, drawing the necklace around and fumbled upon the fastening. The gentle touch of a boy she had long thought incapable of gentleness.

Suddenly it was all over. Lily suppressed a sigh of relief as James stepped back to admire his work. "Well? How is it?" Lily asked with a smile, untinged by her flutters of nervousness.

Upon her smile, James' vanished. "It's… very beautiful." He cleared his throat several times roughly. "You're very beautiful." He relented, wiping the smile off Lily's face and invoking the nervousness in its place.

James suddenly stepped back, his eyes no longer able to meet hers. He struggled briefly in apparent indecision, before finally turning away.

"Snape's a lucky guy." He muttered, and before Lily could say a thing he dashed away into the bustling throng.

* * *

With the party winding down Lily trudged up to her dormitory. She hadn't had an opportunity to find James and set the record straight since his surprising declaration. How he had the notion gotten into his head that Lily had rejected him for Severus? Was this about the Patronus lessons again? What was the idea of two friends puzzling out a high level spell together that was so hard for everyone to wrap their minds around?

The idea bothered her more than it should have. Hadn't she been shrugging off lewd suggestions about her closeness with Severus since third year? Since everyone around her hit puberty and the idea of an unromantic association between a boy and a girl became a hotly contested concept. It wasn't that she felt embarrassed by the suggestion, she never found Severus as repulsive as everyone made him out to be, but they didn't have that kind of a relationship. No feelings like that exist between them. And frankly he was far easier to embarrass than she was.

It was probably another big reason why he didn't come to her birthday party. He was smart enough to anticipate that he'd be peppered with such ridiculous insinuations as well. Severus never held up well against peer pressure interrogation.

Lily pushed her dormitory door inwards, feeling the comfort of sanctuary envelope her. Pandora and Mary sat huddled together in quiet conversation on the bed at the far end, with Achilles the feline demon stretched out comfortably between them. Upon Lily's entrance her muggle-born compatriot lifted her eyes and made the 'quiet' gesture and pointed towards Susan's swaddled bed. Even through the thick tapestries Lily could hear the suffering moans of a girl who had over-indulged.

Lily returned a thumbs up in a gesture of understanding and tiptoed to her bed by the frosted window, just thankful to be in a quiet space. Marlene's bed lay empty beside her, no doubt that party animal was still downstairs wringing out every last drop of enjoyment.

With a muffled sigh Lily flopped onto her bed, kicking her shoes off in an apathetic motion. She was seventeen, she had just passed a major threshold in her life, and she had a big party to celebrate it and everything. Yet she just couldn't find it in herself to feel festive. And she knew exactly what was killing her mood.

"Stupid Severus." She muttered under her breath. "I celebrated your seventeenth, the least you could do is drop by for mine."

She and Sev had celebrated every birthday together since they became friends at the age of nine. A tradition until quite recently she had relented to be dead along with their friendship. A tradition helped by the fact they were exactly three weeks apart in age. It was one of those major coincidences that people like Susan swoon over as 'meant to be". She had hoped he'd see this date like she did, as a symbolic gesture of mending between the two.

And yet again she placed too much faith in Severus' ability to gauge her intentions. It appears even after nearly seven years of friendship he still had zero emotional awareness.

Lily scrunched her face up in a pouting glare up at the offending canopy, as if that action could somehow alert Severus of her impending displeasure. But in an almost answering reply a hollow rapping came at the window by her bedside.

Lily jolted upright in surprise. With an ounce of suspicion she brushed the heavy curtains aside to reveal a disgruntled looking barn owl pressed against the glass, glaring at Lily for her sluggish response.

"Sorry." Lily uttering under her breath as she struggled to prise the window open. The ice had formed over the edges making it exceedingly hard to shift. "Calfacio" Lily muttered, passing her hand over the window, wandlessly heating away the caking of frost that formed there. With a squelch Lily finally managed to shift the slightly warm window, letting in a flurry of snowflakes and feathers.

With a disgruntled hoot the barn owl deposited a nondescript brown parcel atop of Lily's bed then held its foot out with an impatient air about him, waiting for Lily to gather her wits and untie her message.

"Sorry, Sorry." She muttered as she shuffled over quickly to do as she was bade, hoping this owl wouldn't bite her for her indolence. She had a ridiculously difficult time with owls and every exchange with one was a gamble of life and limb.

With a delicate tug of the string, Lily unfurled the message from the burly owl's leg, and without waiting any further the barn owl took flight, spreading its majestic wings and clipping Lily painlessly across the head. Lily brushed aside her disarranged hair from her eyes and turned to the awaiting package. Pandora and Mary had already drifted over, drawn by the commotion and held by curiosity. Even Achilles slunk by for a quick peek before disappearing under the bed.

"What is it Lily?" Mary asked as Pandora the she shut the blustery window with an efficient swish of her wand.

With an equal curiosity Lily unfurled the scroll, and suppressed the urge to laugh and sigh simultaneously, the moment she recognised that distinctive spikey black handwriting. Sure its edges were smoothed out, and its form crafted far less aggressively, but the writing could belong to no other.

"Sev sent along a gift." Lily shook her head with a rueful smile.

Mary met her eyes with an upraised eyebrow. "Can he afford to?"

"I don't know." Lily muttered, suddenly feeling a little troubled. He did distinctly tell her when she gifted him his pocket watch that he could not afford to return the favour for her birthday.

With hesitant fingers Lily worked the twine loose on the oddly shaped package wrapped thickly in butcher paper. The moment the first layers fell away she could start making out the shape of the object within. It appeared to be a round-bottom flask. A potion perhaps?

But all guesses were silenced as the last layer fell away, and a gentle glow met her eyes. In her hand she held a beautiful crystal flask sporting decorative tendrils upon the round shoulders, merging with the patterns creeping up the length of its neck. But it was not the beauty of the flask that stole away her thoughts and breath, but the little silver doe that formed in its belly. As Lily shifted the bottle the little doe melted away into the shimmering silvery liquid sitting at the bottom, sitting according to gravity against whichever directly Lily tilted the flask. It wasn't until she held it perfectly still again did the little doe re-emerge as if standing upon a lake of silver, flicking its tiny silver ears.

"Whoa." Mary muttered, voicing Lily's sentiments exactly. "That's from Snape?"

"It looks so pretty." Pandora chimed, her eyes shimmering in the light cast off by the doe.

"And expensive." Lily muttered, turning to her scroll. She handed over the vial to Mary who held it delicately in her fingers.

Moving over to candlelight Lily unfurled the parchment, a smile touched her lips as she read the _Happy Birthday_ , scratched over the curled lip of the letter.

 _I apologise for not attending your birthday gala. An issue came up within Slytherin that required my attention. An issue I believe, that could only be solved with my presence._

A sliver of worry touched Lily's heart, matched with an equal helping of guilt for mentally lambasting him for his absence. She should have known he would not have broken his promise lightly, and what he's been trying to achieve with Slytherin was a matter of great importance. Her previous annoyance felt suddenly petty.

 _I cannot convey my regrets truly enough in writing-_

Or in speech, honestly.

 _-But I hope you would understand why I chose my House over you this time._

Well of course she'd understand this time, him likening this incident to the last only served to drive the point of her guilt in further.

 _I regret not being able to hand to you your birthday gift in person but I want you to have it this day. I have charmed the bottle to be shatterproof and the stopper to be irremovable. I will thank you to not take that as a challenge lest you dispel what I created within it._

Lily could not help that little smile creeping across her lips. She could see him in her mind's eye reprimanding her for a hypothetical situation she wouldn't dream of doing.

 _The creature I crafted is supposed to be a doe, I am uncertain if that had come across as I intended._

It honestly had, Lily could not have mistaken the beautifully crafted form for anything else.

 _But I want you to know it holds a greater significance than just a simple trinket. The doe is my Patronus, and I wanted you to know that._

With a sharp intake of breath Lily paused, confusion fluttering about her mind as to why it did not come as a surprise. That should have been a surprise. Severus was not a guy who would invoke the image of a doe.

Yet somehow, it seemed fitting. Almost familiar.

 _I do not know what you would make of it, but I hope you will keep it close. Happy Birthday Lily._

 _Love_

 _Severus._

Unexpected. That was the only way Lily could describe seeing Severus sign off with 'love.' She could see little ink blots formed around the word, testament to the resistance he must have wrestled with penning it. She felt her heart thud dully and colour creep onto her face. This was Severus, the aloof and studious Severus. The boy who would much rather spend a day in the library or experimenting with potion craft than touching upon social liaisons. A boy who would glow red and snap at any who inquired about matters of his closed heart.

For him to offer that word willingly… if not casually…

Lily peeked up from the letter, eyes drawn to that magical creature within the bottle held in Mary's careful hands. That tiny little silver doe, a crafted approximation of Severus' Patronus. It was a spell that took on the form of a creature significant to the caster the textbooks had told her, and somehow that felt too significant to ignore. This doe was Sev's heart, something he had saw fit to give to her with a note that he signed off with love.

It could have all just been idiosyncrasies, just a sudden whim that took him close to sentimentality. Except then the tiny little creature turned its beautifully crafted head, its unseeing eyes meeting hers. The breath caught in her throat. A sudden realisation clenched at her heart, the truth of its familiarity.

That doe was her.

She didn't know how she knew that, but she knew.

Wordlessly Lily reached out for the crystal bottle. Mary handed it back without any resistance, along with a quizzical comment that could find no hold within Lily's buzzing mind. The symbolic meaning behind the doe felt beautifully and alarmingly clear. It was everything else that came with it that could not settle clearly. Thoughts she never had before, questions she's never asked.

Lily closed her fingers around the flask, muffling the gentle glow, wishing that it were so easy to mute the sudden chaos within her heart and mind.

* * *

A/N: Today I'm posting early because I have full day work commitments' to attend. Unfortunately because it's going to be semi-regular thing for the foreseeable future, I will be forced to push future updates a day back to Saturdays. Apologies for the future delays, but alas the real world is a demanding mistress.

A thank you to my Beta readers Caleo Ignacium and Sattwa100 for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 7th October 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 18: Pursuit of a Promise**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	18. Pursuit of a Promise

**Chapter 18: Pursuit of a Promise**

"My apologies for suspending your Alchemy lessons," Dumbledore offered lightly as he poured out two delicate cups of tea. "I hope today's return to session was not too much of a readjustment shock."

Snape scowled as the floral scent hit his nose and grumbled, "I kept up with reading and practice." To think the threat of his prospect for darkness had spooked Dumbledore so badly as to warrant seclusion from Flamel.

"I expected no less." Dumbledore beamed without an ounce of contrition, setting down the cups on neat little saucers. "I heard tell too from Slughorn of a commotion in the Slytherin quarters."

Snape nodded brusquely, "That has been taken care of."

"Ah excellent. I do not know why I doubted you."

"Neither do I."

The smile did not appear to falter on the headmaster's face. It was only thanks to years of knowing the man that Snape notice the recession of that twinkle in the old man's eyes. "I too am still fallible. I think Severus, you of all people should know that."

"But somehow you had come to the conclusion that I was a dark wizard." Snape simply could not let it go. "After all that I had given you. Even after all that I had done for you. Through two lifetimes even."

All pretence of a smile parted from the headmaster's bearded lips. "And through your memories you had made one thing abundantly clear, Severus. That you were an exceptional spy."

Snape bit down on a sharp retort, his easy temper flaring despite understanding what Dumbledore was trying to say. Severus Snape had appeared out of obscurity, offering all the answers to the grand wizard's prayers. Too convenient a gift, whose own willingly donated memories spoke of a proclivity for mind arts and spy work. Any fool would be suspicious, and Albus Dumbledore was no fool.

"Fine," Snape growled, unable to subdue the vehemence in his tone. "What do you need of me as a guarantee?"

With a rueful smile, Dumbledore shook his head. "I require no guarantee from you Severus. I believe you."

"Was that all it took?" Snape muttered scathingly. "An easy Memory Charm and a quick cup of tea?"

"I did not see it that way Severus," Dumbledore said calmly as he took a long draught of his rose-infused Oolong tea. It had become a habit of late for Dumbledore to break out his exotic tea set on his Thursday evenings and offer a cup to the less than enthusiastic Snape. Though Snape would eventually accept a cup of whatever horrendous concoction the old man brewed he stood unswayed from his preferred choice of black tea, or better yet coffee.

After a moment of silence proceeded by a contemplative sip, Dumbledore asked in a conversational tone. "How is Lily by the way?"

"As before," Snape muttered, it was all he could do to stop that creeping scowl from spilling forth once more. "Had you taken the time to speak to her yourself you would know."

"I did not feel the need to alarm her with my attention." The headmaster continued after another brief sip of his steaming tea. "After all, she appears to be in good hands with you monitoring her closely."

"As close as I could be, with our return to a rocky patched friendship," Snape grumbled.

A weary look passed across Dumbledore's wizened face, "It was very admirable to do what you did."

"If it will keep her safe then the cost to me is of no consequence." It felt easy to say that now that the event sat cosily in his past. She was not dead, nor was she estranged. All he had lost was the hope for something more, a wish he had no right to continue to wish for.

With a smile, Dumbledore raised his teacup in a hailing gesture. "And that is why I require no guarantee. Your willingness to sacrifice is proof enough."

"You make it sound as if dark wizards are incapable of making sacrifices."

"Perhaps they are." Dumbledore acknowledged, his smile gentle. "But rarely for another, Severus. And never for love."

"This from a man who fell in love with a dark wizard," Snape scathed unkindly.

A flash of hurt darted across the headmaster's face but disappeared so quickly that had it not been for the sudden retreat of his smile, Snape might have thought it imagined. The younger man quickly took a sip of his watery lukewarm tea, he even had the self-control to not grimace at the taste.

"I did not consider anything that I was willing to do for him… a sacrifice," Dumbledore confessed in a muted tone. "Perhaps. Had I been tested in that fashion I would have realised sooner."

Snape didn't expect the shame that lanced through him. That was a low blow, one unbefitting of a man who had done far worse than almost get lured into darkness by evil incarnate and potentially accidentally murder someone he loved.

"At the very least I do not need to worry about your love leading you astray, Severus," Dumbledore continued in a somewhat sombre tone, "You have done much good despite your continued hardships. Especially with the maligned children within your own House."

Snape eased into the change of topic with silent gratitude. "They are not bad children. They were simply in a bad situation."

A twinkle re-emerged in Dumbledore's eyes. "Not dissimilar to a story we both know too well."

Snape scowled, suddenly not feeling too badly about his below the belt jab at the old man earlier.

"Tell me Severus," the headmaster continued, apparently oblivious at his company's souring mood, "was this way with influence an ability you gained through your role as Head of House?"

"Hardly," Snape grumbled, "I was only able to set ground rules. That led to the change of intra-House interactions over the decade. Ultimately I could not stop the Death Eaters from springing up from within our ranks."

"Yet. They were not bad children."

"No," Snape agreed. "They were simply misguided and lonely, despite my best efforts."

The smile finally returned to Dumbledore's wizened face. "Then perhaps then you could do some real good for them, not as an authority figure, but as a role model."

"That would be an ideal outcome," Snape returned coolly.

"Should you champion the cause of kindness and shepard them away from the call of cruelty, reform becomes a true possibility for all."

A dry grimace curled the younger man's lips. "Again. Nothing would please me more."

"Then perhaps you might reconsider putting aside old grievances," said Dumbledore, setting aside all pretence. "Make the Wolfsbane for young Remus Lupin. Lead your cause by example."

Snape had been too long in the game to be taken by such an obvious manipulative play. He saw the move from two sentences ago. "I will think about it," answered Snape, not really committing any dedicated thinking time to the moral conundrum. Where the Marauders were involved, if helping them was not of vital importance to the task at hand, or to Lily, then they could suffer, for all he cared.

Dumbledore leant back in his seat, his eyes still holding that stupid twinkle, his smile too sure and satisfied for Snape's liking. "Then I await your decision."

* * *

February announced itself with a sudden offer of fair weather. Though the snow remained knee-high out on Hogwarts grounds, the biting cold upon the air lost much of its teeth. Friday mornings was Transfigurations, a class growing more difficult by the week. The new complex theorems were a test of Lily's ability and concentration at the best of times, but this day her mind was drifting far worse than usual.

"-Modification of the transformation formula. _T_ equals _w_ times _c_ over-" McGonagall's voice buzzed against Lily's consciousness. It was all very important, she was sure, and she would regret it come the homework next week, but she simply could not reign in her rebellious mind.

Lily lowered her head slightly as she made to glance over her shoulder discreetly. Severus sat at the back in his little Slytherin corner as usual, his eyes fixed upon his desk, scribbling his notes in that furious writing style of his.

He didn't seem to find any problems concentrating what so ever.

Lily felt a little bubble of irritation. Just two weeks ago, Severus had sent her that emotionally ambiguous message and he didn't even have the decency of sharing Lily's nervous distraction. She had come to class on Monday, under-rested and full of dreaded anticipation of meeting Sev in class that day. She had been kept up all night by the worries of what this all might mean about their friendship, about how things might change.

As it turned out, she had lost all that sleep for nothing. Come morning, the first class she had together with Sev was Defence against the Dark Arts. She had been twisted into knots, sneaking apprehensively into the classroom while enduring the snarky smirking glances Susan threw at her. With a small nervous smile Lily had glanced straight into the Slytherin corner, from where Severus greeted back mutely with a small wave and a lack of smile. She didn't know what more she had expected from him but it just seemed too… usual. At least for the boy he was now.

As the day progressed and Potions had come and gone, Lily had felt more and more confused and slightly let down by the lack of response she was getting. Granted she had started the day absolutely dreading having to face a mortifying confession situation from the last person she ever expected to have to deal with emotionally, but his absolute lack of change had disconcerted her.

Was she the one that was mistaken? Did she read too much into his gift?

Or perhaps he was acting differently, and she was simply not noticing it. After all, he had changed so much in the six months, he felt like a completely different person. Or perhaps more accurately, a Severus who now embodied his best traits, a Severus who was no longer ruled by his worst. Everything he was now, was nothing she didn't know him capable of. And she could not help now but imagine that it was all because of her.

Because of how he felt about her.

Yet despite how certain she had been about the meaning of his gift, his cool aloof demeanour had begun wearing down her confidence in her prognosis. He would not smile when she spoke to him, nor would he leave a word out of place. Then again, he did not say much. He rarely did now days. Whatever it was that had changed Severus, it did not leave him happier for it.

And if his funk turned out to be due to a tragic unreciprocated love… Well… She'd deal with it if it came to that. Almost a fortnight had passed since and she couldn't even be sure it was that, not any more at least.

Just yesterday she had encountered him in the library, so early that the only other studious souls about were overeager Ravenclaws. It was not unusual to find him thus. He was apparently in study, pouring over complex scrolls with indecipherable formulas. Yet again very ordinary. Without any announcement she dropped her books onto his table, startling him from undoubtedly deep contemplations.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Lily had asked brightly, all smiles and sunshine despite her fluttering nervousness to be virtually alone with Severus.

No smile touched his rigid lips but his eyes softened a touch. "Alchemy. I'm preparing for classes later today." No hesitation coloured his voice, no awkwardness in his demeanour, at least no more than usual.

"Figured your way past your bump in the road?" Lily continued, her eyes not leaving his. Eventually he did look away, casting his eyes back to his complex scrolls. An indicator of discomfort, or his eagerness to reapply his studious mind.

"Getting there." He muttered, and that was all that was said. Lily could not gain any more insight from that exchange as moments later, like a vulture to the death rattles of dying man, Madam Pince swooped in and ensured the rest of the study session passed in a far more silent fashion.

He did not seem different. At least not from before he sent his gift to her.

That was the niggling thought that swirled about her mind during Transfiguration, whisking away the valuable brainpower that could no doubt have been better spent saving herself a lot of catch up. Lily sighed as class wrapped up and McGonagall announced the week's homework topic. Two to four feet of writing no doubt. It was never a light load this year and by the groan that emitted from Marlene the task was edging more towards the four feet end of the scale.

When the flurry of packing up kicked up around her, Lily sluggishly tucked away her hastily noted homework topic into her pack without allowing the ink to properly dry. Wincing at her rooky mistake she withdrew the paper and sighed when the writing emerged too smeared to make out. It looked like she'd be relying on Marlene this week for a copy of the assignment question.

"You okay Lily?" Mary ventured, concerned.

"Yeah you've been out of it all week." Susan added, her concern coloured far more with curiosity.

"Still recovering from the hangover from my party I suppose." Lily said with a shrug, a motion she hoped looked convincingly casual enough to not provoke any more questioning down this line.

An unpleasantly knowing purse lit upon Susan's thin lips, an expression too similar to that of Lily's harpy sister. "I don't think it's that at all." She said in her irritatingly singsong tone. "Rather you're recovering from the heartbreak of your party. Because Se~v didn't come."

Mary smiled apologetically, knowing all too well how much Susan's teasing ways grated upon Lily's nerves.

"You're right Susan." She suddenly replied, eliciting a small gasp of scandalised surprise from that too gossipy friend of hers. "I simply cannot go on without him. Now if you'll excuse me I must rectify my sorry excuse of a meaningless life." And with that Lily stood with as much quiet dignity she could muster after spending all morning half comatose, and marched straight down to the back of the classroom to intercept the wizard in question.

Severus was just making his way down along with his ex-Death Eater friends when Lily swooped onto him and linked arms. "Keep walking and don't ask any questions." Lily muttered as she dragged the confused boy down past her gobsmacked friends. "That'll give the harpy something to talk about." She muttered acidly as they stepped out of the classroom and out of earshot.

"Someone you don't get along with, Lily?" Severus asked, his tone light. Though he did not smile his eyebrows were raised, giving his dark eyes an almost amused twinkle. His Slytherin friends had melted away from his side; they were pretty quick on the uptake since their sudden turnabout.

"My roommate Susan. Unrepentant gossip I tell you. It's like living with Petunia all over again."

His thin lips pulled across in a ghost of a smile. Lily's heart did a flip. "My condolences then."

"She's moved away last year you know." Lily prattled on. "Went to London to pursue some kind of study course. Was quite peaceful during the breaks." All except for the summer in any case. What with her mother's sudden passing, and the return of Petunia for the funeral, and what with her and Sev not talking. "You should come over next time. I guarantee you it's so much nicer without Tuney breathing down our necks."

She felt a slight tensing of his arm though his expression did not change. "Nothing would please me more than to be part of your life again." He told her solemnly, with a tone and passive expression that told her nothing of his state of mind.

Phooey. It bothered her. It would be so much easier to understand him if he just came out and said how he felt. No more riddles and guesswork. No more sitting in a corner and wondering exactly what it was that was changing him into this miraculous wonderful Severus.

"Well how about we start with this Saturday then?" Lily suddenly offered. "You planning on going to Hogsmeade?" Weekend trips to that little village happened about once a month, usually on the Saturday of the first week or before any significant days. This month it was the second Saturday, the one right before Valentine's Day.

 _Oh goodness!_ Lily suddenly thought with a start. _I hope he doesn't get the wrong idea._

But his darkened expression told her a romantic weekend was not the first thing that came to mind.

"No." He muttered, rippling with discomfort.

Lily shifted with empathetic discomfort, suddenly remembering Severus never liked coming to Hogsmeade. He could never afford anything there and it would always end with him wandering aimlessly, waiting for her to be done. After just six months that fact had somehow slipped her mind.

"R-right. Neither am I." Lily backpedalled quickly.

Severus stared at her with raised eyebrows. "Lily. You're a prefect. You have patrol duties."

"Not all of us have to be there." Lily felt a little frazzled by the prospect of cashing in her favour from Head Girl Tills on such short notice. That might just do her nut in but Lily had to be firm. She wanted things to be settled between her and Severus now, not after another week of disastrous classwork. "I just want our Patronus lessons to start again."

That brought a response out of him. Severus stopped midstride and stared, his high eyebrows suddenly sitting low upon his dark eyes. Staring. Perhaps searching her eyes, as Lily searched his.

"You wish to learn again?" He asked, disbelief colouring his words, tinted with hope. There it was, his emotions were within her scope once more.

"Well, I never wanted to stop our lessons." Lily said almost flippantly. "Things got busy, what with the birthday party. Then afters… well." She got too flustered to seek him out. "Homework. Things got pretty hard pretty quickly didn't it?"

Severus' blank expression reaffirmed itself upon his face. "I honestly hadn't noticed." He replied dryly.

"Either way, Saturday, let's try again." Lily tapped her elbow to his side in a playful way. "But fair warning… in the three weeks I took as a break, I seemed to have managed to… forget almost everything. You'll have to reteach me."

To her relief he did not appear the least bit offended. "I am prepared to help you revise."

Lily beamed. This was the Severus she loved. The kind and dependable boy she had known since childhood. And yet so different. He did not deal with her lapse in practice with that streak of impatient irritation that always made her feel slow and stupid. Though he was almost always scowling, and never smiling, he was a far more desirable version than the Severus she had parted ways with. The Severus she could barely bring herself to stand, his anger and possessiveness that grew with every passing day.

It appeared those six months apart was just what they needed.

"Oh Lily! A word if you please." A cheerful voice called out from behind her. Lily paused in her step and unlinked her arm from Severus'. That charade was for Susan's benefit, not for Remus'.

"You're looking well Remus." Lily greeted with a smile. The full moon a week ago took a toll on the poor werewolf. Even after a weekend's bedrest he could barely pull himself together for classes on Monday morning.

"All the better for seeing your smile, dear Lily." The smooth-tongued werewolf continued.

Lily rolled her eyes with what she hoped was an exasperated smile. "Please Remus. I'm with company."

Except she suddenly wasn't. Lily turned to find Severus half way down the corridor, his shoulders hunched and tense. A sliver of sadness stabbed Lily's heart as she realised, despite the changes Severus underwent, one thing remained constant. He hated werewolves, something to no fault of the poor cursed boy. Whatever relent Sev might have found with James would never be extended to Remus.

That was the ugliest thing about Severus now. Perhaps, it was still an improvement.

"Ah. Snape got you down?" Remus asked sympathetically.

"It's honestly much better." Lily insisted.

"I couldn't see how it could have been worse."

Lily smirked, feeling the knot of tension she didn't know she was holding slip away. "It's really complicated you know, Remus. He's just so different now. Not in a bad way. Not at all. In every best way possible. But…"

"He feels like a stranger?" The sandy haired boy helpfully offered.

"More like how he used to be as a nine-year-old. Before all this peer pressure and pureblood nonsense got to him." Lily conceded with an easy smile. "Which I suppose, considering how much longer I had known him to be a pureblood supremacy prick, is as good as being a stranger. But now he makes me all tense when I talk to him." She confessed without any resistance. Remus was always easy to talk to.

With a raise of one sandy eyebrow, her friend and fellow prefect asked, "But you like him more now?"

"Much more." Lily responded with a nod.

"Then all in good time Lily. That's all that stands between strangers and friends. And since this is a much nicer Snape, I'm sure getting to know him will be a far less harrowing experience than the first time around."

Lily snorted her mortifying unladylike laugh. "Don't be like that. He was a good guy when I first got to know him."

"Then it'd be déjà vu, I'm sure." Remus finished with a kindly smile.

That was what she hoped for. An ease back to when their relationship was simple. When he was her best friend, and all he brought to her life was wonder and joy. Lily smiled her easy smile, wordlessly thanking the calm and kind Marauder for his bolstering words. It occurred to her suddenly that in their stumble off topic he hadn't told her what he was seeking her out for. "Oh right. What did you need to talk to me about?"

"Right." Remus grinned brightly. "I was meant to bring you the itinerary for patrol times tomorrow."

The bright smile upon Lily's face retreated to a guilty grimace.

* * *

 _Marauders! Curse them and the very ground they walk on._

Snape strode briskly down the corridor, trying put as much distance between him and that repulsive werewolf as possible. Lily greeted the vile creature with a smile and such ease that it shook Snape to the core. She wasn't just his Lily, she never was. Instead he was forced to share her with the vile likes of those Marauders.

Snape scowled as he emerged into the bustling Entrance Hall and headed up towards the Grand Staircase, filled with noisy children. Morning break was in session and undoubtedly their eagerness was not owing to anything constructive. Snape glared two small Hufflepuffs out of his path and skulked quietly up towards the library. At the very least he'd get his Transfigurations essay finished. The principles of re-materialisation was a well-practiced field for Severus. This homework would presumably take him no longer than an hour.

That left him the rest of the day, a day to practice his alchemy perhaps. He had no more homework to do, he always finished his work within a day or two of classes, with the exception of Charms. He had started forming a habit of keeping Charms homework on the table in case he needed an excuse to spend time with Lily. Which honestly sounded pretty pathetic now that he thought about it.

At the very least Lily had promised him some time with her tomorrow. That was time he did not need to exhaust his excuses for.

Snape sighed internally, not allowing the ripple of weakness to touch his stony exterior. Patronus classes again. She had requested it but he doubted she pursued it with the significance it had represented. That had been their time together. Their possibility of finding out if a future together was possible.

It was never possible. Severus wasn't fooling himself. But the idea that Lily had thought it might be… it was comforting. A kindness he only ever expected from a soul like Lily.

" _Make me fall in love with you."_ she had asked of him. A promise he gave willingly. A promise she no longer remembered, but he had tried to uphold it the best that he could.

He had sent her that bottle of her memories, enchanted into the shape of the creature within his own heart. As sentimental as he could bring himself to be. As close to confessing his heart to the unobtainable Lily as he could bear. In the end all he had achieved was a slightly higher-strung friend who threw him appraising glances whenever she thought he wasn't looking.

Now the only hope Snape had for the future was a small part in Lily's life, and to find absolution in her survival. If her destiny brought her together with someone else then so be it. He could deal with it, eventually. So long as wasn't not Potter or any one of those damned Marauders. The most he could ask for now was a little slice of her time every few days, just to feel the comfort of her presence. To bask in that illusion of hope.

Snape could not stop that grumbling sigh that tore through his glowering lips. These were definitely the sort of thoughts he sought to distract himself from. Perhaps immersive work with his alchemy was called for this afternoon. He had to drive himself into the frustration of experimentation and failure that entailed the creation of a new spell. A tedious effort that required his full concentration, the perfect whitewash to immerse himself in.

The issue had been having to juggle spellcasting. It was possible for him to balance two active spells at once, he had the delicate control necessary, but what he lacked was the ability to maintain equal portions of power throughout the process. The result always gave him a disappointingly low yield of products at the end of his transmutative process.

What Snape believed was needed to be done was for one process to be rearranged in sequence to the other so neither process needed to compete for his attention or magical power. He had initially experimented with the Stasis charm to suspend the substrate in liquid form, however that rendered the subsequent application of the microtransfiguration spell inert. Those molecules that stayed in stasis would refused to shift for the newly introduced spell.

No, that was not the way to do this. If it were so simple, surely the art would have changed centuries ago by the undoubtedly high numbers of mentally-abled witches and wizards who could not weather the wandless path like himself. It would not be simple, but if a solution was possible then he would find it.

Snape paused upon the first-floor flight, wrestling briefly with the decision to finish his Transfigurations homework as planned, or give in to temptation and ascend straight up to the seventh floor and settle down straight into spell crafting. It would be gratifying to feel some inkling triumph against at least one of the various things frustrating his life. To feel some semblance of the vicious pride that his creation of Sectumsempra had given him. It wasn't just Lucius' offer that drove him. It was his own need to prove to himself that he could do what others could not. That he had something of value. That he was something of value. The catharsis of self-worth.

Snape's hand tightened upon the handrail as he turned his eyes upwards through the shifting staircases. A silent beseech upon his unsettled soul. He had long since surrendered to self-loathing and accepted that there was nothing to celebrate about himself. The only quality he ever had was his creative and exacting mind, and even that had brought him little to nothing.

But he should need a crutch no longer. He was not a child that still needed reaffirmation and encouragement at every turn; he was an adult, bitter but grounded in reality. This was as good as it was going to get for him.

With a set of his jaw Snape stepped out from the first-floor flight and into the corridor, committing to his responsibilities before his experimentations. That had been his reasoning as he stepped through the corridor, and not the scream he heard from down that hall, and certainly not that blond werewolf that tore past him, dashing to the source of that commotion.

"Prefect! Coming through!" Lupin called as he fought through the crowds rushing in the other direction.

A little Slytherin girl of South Asian decent was running up past him, a girl stopped by Severus' grip upon her elbow. "What's happened?" He demanded in his deep commanding tone.

The fear melted from her face the moment she saw it was Snape, a strange reaction that he was still getting used to. "The two seventh-years from our House." She babbled quickly. "They attacked me and Pippa, and the group of Ravenclaws we were studying with."

Snape barked, "Show me." and hurried his step.

"Right up the hall past the library." The girl directed, breaking into a jog. "Where that Gryffindor prefect is headed."

"He's not going to be able to do anything about it." Snape growled, and as if proving his point a loud bang sounded around the corner and Lupin's body was flung like a ragdoll into the wall, right in front of the surprised girl.

In two long strides, Snape rounded the corner, wand levelled against the two seventh year anarchists. Travers and Wilkes stared back, surprised but defiant, standing over the moaning forms of the Ravenclaw girls they had cursed and strewn about the hallway. One of the girls sobbed over handfuls of luxurious brown locks that had been scalped from the crown of her head, another lay semi-conscious as pustules spouted across her nose and cheeks.

"It appears I cannot trust either of you to restrain yourself for the benefit of our House," Snape growled.

Wilkes laughed, a rough sneering guffaw. "What, you think you're going to fight us on your own Snape? No bleedin' House unity to back you out of this one."

The Slytherin girl gripped her wand and prepared to step out into the hallway but Snape motioned subtly with his left hand for her to stand back. It was good to be underestimated. Travers and Wilkes honestly had no idea, and Snape wanted a conscious witness for what was to ensue. "Well here I am. Alone and outnumbered," Snape sneered, his wand not moving an inch from his duelling stance. "By all means, teach me a lesson."

"Bleedin' House traitor!" Travers roared and flung his silent curse. With barely a blink Snape swept it aside, as well as the next spell fire shot at him. He advanced slowly down the hall, savouring that creeping horror in the two seventh year's eyes as they retreated down the hallway. Wilkes stumbled over the prone body of a Ravenclaw girl, he only regained his footing because Snape gave him the reprieve to. And from the look in his eye, he knew it. That rush of power Snape felt, when his opponents knew they were bested before he even dealt that decisive blow.

A blow to their pride and their spirit. To crush the fight from their soul.

Victory within his grasp, a gratifying unmistakable victory. A victory stolen from him in the most ironic way. Blasted Marauders and their ability to constantly appear where Snape wanted them the least.

James Potter and Sirius Black emerged from the bend beyond, their wands already levelled as if they expected to find every man in the position that they stood.

"Stupefy!" They both shouted, twin blasts downing Wilkes from behind. Even taking enemies by surprise they chose to gang up on one target.

Travers roared and spun on his heel, sending a curse silently towards the unsurprisingly unprepared Black. With almost an embarrassing lack of fight the reckless Marauder went down in a flurry of feathers and tar. To his credit Potter did not flinch but fired back, in a wide and obvious strike, that Travers could parry, even with his mediocre skill.

With a reluctant sigh Snape sent a stunner down the hall, bringing down Travers from behind with embarrassing ease. This was not how he wanted his victory to go. It was almost predictable that the Marauders would find some way to ruin it.

"Thanks but I could have handled it." Potter quipped arrogantly as he stowed his wand.

"As could I!" Snape spat in return.

The bespectacled Marauder knelt to tend to his cursing friend as he fought free of that sticky mess. "It wasn't that I doubted you, but Remus was behind you, and you didn't look like you felt like clearing him for rescue any time soon. Which by the way - how is he Peter?!" He called down the hallway, prompting Snape to turn. That pudgy rat-faced, soon-to-turn-traitor knelt beside his unconscious friend, his face arranged in every way the concerned friend should look.

"He's bleeding just a little, James." The watery-eyed boy replied. "But he's not waking up."

"That's because he's stunned." Snape muttered, marching down the hallway to assess the injured.

Some of the girls pulled themselves upright, most still marked with the curses they had been struck with. "Priya." A curse-addled Slytherin girl groaned as the help-fetching Slytherin girl knelt down beside her.

Striding over, Snape traced his wand over the cross eyed girl and muttered the counter curse. It was simple matter dispelling these light, barely harmful spells, child's play one might say. No matter how vicious they thought themselves to be they could not yet bring themselves to cast anything with any teeth.

James Potter was suddenly by his side, lending wand work to a sobbing girl grunting through a pig's snout. "Do not attempt to untransfigure her," Snape growled, "leave those injuries to a professional."

"I am professional." Potter returned arrogantly, and true to word he returned the girl's face to her with a tap of his wand.

Snape narrowed his eyes, reminded quite suddenly that the Marauders were a gang of illegal Animagus. They would have to know how to dispel human transfiguration injuries owing to their own proclivity for reckless spellcasting.

"Get the others on stretchers." Snape barked, eliciting a sour look from James Potter and the still stained Sirius Black. The hospital Wing was thankfully on this floor which saved the victims from needing to gamble on the help these foolhardy Gryffindors were offering to provide. The Slytherin girls however, jumped to order. Even slightly disorientated Pippa was still able to conjure. They could be no younger than fifth years if they knew that spell, but they were not people he remembered.

"Thanks." Pippa offered with a nervous smile, before she and her friend Priya floated their charges down the hall towards the hospital wing.

"I suppose I should offer you some thanks too." Potter grunted unexpectedly as he fitted the remaining three girls with quickly conjured stretchers.

"I didn't do anything for you." Snape spat as he deposited the unconscious Travers and Wilkes not-too-gently upon his own conjured stretchers.

Potter smirked in his irritating confident way. "But you helped Remus. For that I'm thankful."

"I wasn't trying to." He growled again. That blond idiot was being stretchered by that ham-fisted Black. What that halfwit werewolf thought he could accomplish by his presence in this situation was beyond Snape. Did he really think his prefectural powers protected him from attack?

Potter shrugged, hefting the three stretchers behind him with a powerful ease that did not befit that of a student. "Whatever your intentions might have been, you helped Remus. I'm still grateful for that, you know."

"I don't care." Snape growled as the Marauders stepped harmlessly past him, each hauling their charges. As usual the rat remained unhelpful, trailing behind his stronger friends, sniffling and throwing suspicious glances at the lone Slytherin.

Potter stepped up to the corner and paused before he rounded the bend, glancing back to Snape with that irritating smirk upon his face. "We're not enemies, anymore remember?" and with that he stepped away. Black followed along, throwing dirty looks over his shoulder while useless little Peter quickened his step so as not to be left alone in that suddenly too empty hallway.

* * *

Fresh snowfall covered the sloping bank of the great frozen Lake. Lily was already two attempts in before she finally heard the crunch of Severus' approach that frosty Saturday morning.

"Expecto Patronum!" She called, a thick white mist spilling forth from her wand in response. Lily grinned triumphantly as she turned to the approaching boy.

"Your Patronus has gotten a lot stronger." He observed in a dry tone. "Which memory did you choose?"

"My first successful wand cast." Lily answered without hesitation, "Just came home from my first trip to Diagon Alley with my new wand and a bag full of school books. Took out the top book on the pile and turned to the first page. The Levitation Charm. Had my pillows floating within the hour." She beamed with the recalled joy and pride.

Severus stepped down beside her, his heating charm melting the snow around his ankles, his face as stony and unsmiling as she had come to expect. "Your spell work brings you uncomplicated joy." he muttered, "I suppose that comes as unsurprising."

"Is that what's spurring my casting?" Lily asked with a fading smile, "Uncomplicated feelings?"

"It will take you some of the way-" Snape answered.

"But not all of it." Lily finished. The elation she felt at her apparent progress ebbing away.

Severus turned to her with an apologetic look on his face. As he should for being such a discouraging downer. "The reason why uncomplicated happiness do not work is because they are of such little consequence."

"Excuse me." Lily rounded on her friend with upraised eyebrows, "My casting ability is not of little consequence."

"Of course not." He returned with a haste, a cautious edge to his tone. He seemed to have lost the ability to tell when she's just teasing. Lily flashed him a quick smile to clue him in on her jest, and he settled visibly in response.

"You need a memory that matters to you." he continued, "As in you. The current you. While I'm certain the ability to cast basic spells were elating at the time it ultimately does very little for you now."

Lily scrunched her face up in a pouting grimace. "This is making less sense by the minute. I swear you're speaking in maddening riddles."

"Think of something that brings your life joy at this very moment." Severus offered in a helpful, patient tone.

With a sudden beaming smile, Lily knew what he was hinting at. "Well I am quite happy about you!" she declared, watching that tiny uplift in the corner of his thin lips. "I do believe your return might be my happy memory."

Severus nodded his silent encouragement to try.

Turning to the lake Lily mustered her memory, recalling the moment, mere months ago, when Severus announced his break with the Death Eaters to the entire school. That shock, mingled with disbelief, and that beautiful undeniable bloom of hope.

"Expecto Patronum!" She called, swinging her wand in that familiar circular motion. The mist that bloomed forth was thick and heady, and slow to disperse. Her heart thudded. She was on the right path.

With a deep breath she tried again. This time within her mind that embrace she shared with him. That moment when she sought him out and he confirmed his words to her. When she finally truly believed her friend had returned to her life.

"Expecto Patronum!" She evoked again, and this time the spell responded in a way it never had before. The mist pooled before her, no longer loose and formless, but coalescing into a faint shape. Before it could fully form the mist dissipated as if scattered by the breeze that skipped across the frozen lake.

The elation Lily felt at the results ebbed away into shock. Because even faintly formed the shape of her Patronus was apparent.

"A doe?" She breathed. "That was a doe, wasn't it?"

"How could you tell?" Severus returned dryly, but his refusal to meet her eyes made her think he was anything but dismissive of the significance.

Lily brushed her hair across her shoulder, letting the flowing strands come down across her face to hide her sudden discomfort. That was a doe. She was becoming surer by the minute. And even more so that it was exactly what Severus had expected.

Her Patronus was a doe, just like his, or so he had claimed. She hadn't actually seen it after all.

"Can I see your Patronus?" Lily suddenly asked.

A nervous shadow fell across Severus' face. "You know what it is." he muttered.

"No, I don't." Lily insisted. "I only know that you told me yours is a doe." Along with a beautifully enchanted example. If theirs was the same, what did it all mean?

She knew what she suspected.

"Show me." she insisted, her eyes wide and searching. Severus withdrew a step, his dark eyes hooded, his expression suddenly anxious, almost fearful.

"No." He choked out, backing up another step.

"You said yours is a doe. Were you lying?" Lily would not relent.

Severus looked away. "No." he grated out through gritted teeth. His denial sounding like a confession to Lily's ears. A terrifying heart pounding confession.

"But. If mine is a doe… and yours is a doe…" She let that sentence trail off. Severus refused to turn back to look at her. "What does it mean, Severus?"

 _Does it mean…?_

He closed his eyes, teeth gritted in an almost shameful scowl.

"What does it mean?" She insisted again.

 _I know what it means._ Her heart raced. _Why am I asking?_

 _Why am I forcing an answer?_

"Severus." She breathed, unsure as to what she hoped to gain from this, and unable to stop herself. "What does it mean?"

Finally, he opened his eyes. Those dark eyes lifting impossibly slowly to meet hers. That anxiety no longer upon his features.

"It means…" he muttered, his voice deep and calm. "I love you."

* * *

A/N: Dun dun duuuuuuun!

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Back to our regular programing (I hope).

Next Update: Friday 20th October 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 19: His Strength and his Weakness**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	19. His Strength and his Weakness

**Chapter 19: His Strength and his Weakness**

There was not enough scalding water in the world to wash away the shame Snape felt.

 _Stupid idiot._ He lambasted himself as he knocked his head against the tiled wall.

From his own mouth he confessed in no uncertain terms, something he had expressly told himself he would not be doing.

" _It means… I love you."_

Of all the idiotic teenaged things to do!

That shock upon her face said it all. The sudden colouring of her cheeks and inability to meet his eyes. "S-sorry," she had stuttered before she took off racing back to the castle, leaving Severus standing there humiliated and aghast.

What possessed him to confess? _Curse this hormone addled body!_

She kept pushing him and pushing him. And rather than distract her or attempt to change the topic, he, for whatever reason, had thought it was finally an opportunity to confess truly. That she might somehow accept it.

That was a colossal mistake. Snape thwacked his head against the wet tiles with more feeling.

It was all because of that doe. That faint outline of a doe she had managed to conjure, and the fact she had been attempting that spell with memories of the two of them in mind. She had gotten so close… and he thought…

That she found him in her heart.

Suppressing a verbal groan Snape stood with his head against the cool bathroom wall as scalding water poured around him, wishing the sentient castle would answer his plea and simply swallow him and save him from his mortification.

He knew that's not how the spell worked. He knew the doe would not hold the same significance to her as it did for him. Yet in a moment of madness, he discounted everything his mind told him and chose to listen to that foolish hope that Lily might have been right.

That if she found her doe she would find him.

Thus proving at this age he was a complete moron and could not be trusted. Why was being a teenager so damned infuriating?

With a hissing sigh Snape spun the tap closed and set to dry off. The soft woollen towel provided by the House elves of Hogwarts grated against his heat tenderised skin. Perhaps he over did it with the heat of the water, but at this moment he could be nothing but grateful for the distraction that dull singing pain afforded.

Slipping on clean underwear and his night shirt, Snape summoned his discarded robes. He didn't have bathrobes so he really had no other way of maintaining his dignity while moving from the dormitory bathrooms to the bedroom. Student life was terribly inconvenient. He pined briefly for the ensuite bathroom that was connected directly to his Professorial quarters. Not much in his life worked but at the very least he lived a reasonably comfortable life within the castle.

In a scowling brood Snape trudged slowly down to the sleeping quarters, passing the thick paned enchanted windows that lined the stairwell, peering straight into the dark watery heart of the frozen lake.

He had glimpsed into the other dormitories before, often for student disciplinary reasons when their own heads were unavailable. Minerva was the only Head that never had an issue with the high demands of her unruly den. The only time Snape ever had need to visit the inside of Gryffindor Tower was when that sorry excuse of a human being, Sirius Black broke out of Azkaban and came all the way up to the Scottish Highlands to terrorise his god son. The living space of all three of those Houses had been arranged to be warm and welcoming, with access to natural light all year round. By comparison, Slytherin dormitory stoked an air of depression no matter where the sun was in the sky.

But it was in this environment that Snape felt the most at home. This was the only refuge he had in his childhood, and the only home he knew as an adult. The quiet was all he ever wished for when things got too out of control in his life. And it was all he wanted now.

"Date go badly?" Urquart asked in his ever so blasé way the moment his roommate pushed into the dormitory.

"Shut up," Snape muttered as he slunk into his bed and drew the posters together.

* * *

It was Valentine's Day, a fact that Lily could not forget, owing to the sudden influx of owls bearing cards and little adorably wrapped packages to giggling girls at the breakfast table. Known couples made eyes to each other from across the table, and couples-to-be flirted shamelessly over their morning yogurt and orange juice.

Even Lily got several cards over the course of the meal. Most of them would be from boys she had barely ever exchanged any words with, some would be from anonymous admirers, one would always be from James Potter, who would smile and wave whenever she received his owl. None was ever from Severus. This morning was no different.

Lily shuffled through the handful of cards she received by a flock of disgruntled owls who inevitably arrived at the same time and had to fight beak and talon with their brethren to deliver their pointless charge. Because apart from a cursory glance through the names and writing styles there was little else Lily could do with her bundle of admirers. She noticed the one she received from James was written in a far less obnoxious way then she was used to. It was almost completely void of flirtatious remarks and read remarkably like a message from a fond friend rather than a potential suitor.

Lily shot a smile up at the boy. She knew he was watching, he always was on Valentine's morning. He returned it with a beaming smile of his own.

If truth be told she never kept any of her Valentine's cards. She honestly couldn't without becoming a hoarder. The least she could do was dispose of them discretely so none of the boys who took their time to write her wouldn't stumble across them accidentally and have their hearts broken in the cruellest possible way. It wasn't that she didn't want their affection; she was quite flattered by all the attention, but honestly apart from James she didn't know half her admirers. Especially not the ones from other years, and double went for the ones from other Houses.

"Good haul this year," Marlene quipped through her mouth full of eggs.

"You got a decent amount this year to," Lily returned, indicating the small pile sitting by her plate.

"Eh. Most of its just fan mail for Marlene McKinnon, ace Chaser. Nothing really serious."

Mary never had any cards, but that fact never bothered her. Instead she had a long line of amours every other day of the year. Susan once joked that she was the female version of Sirius. A comparison that Lily had always found unkind. Black was honestly a man-whore who hit on every girl who crossed his path and had bedded half the school, if his bragging held any water. It was honestly to Lily's immense relief that Black could not stomach her presence, instead all she had to deal with was James' far less offensive advances.

Lily glanced down the table again to the bespectacled boy. James had already turned away, engaged in conversation with his friends sitting at his shoulder, before him sat a sizable stack of Valentine's Day salutations as well, none of which were ever from Lily. She had found his interest flattering, especially considering the sizable pool of admirers already waiting and willing to leap into his arms, but honestly she could not see herself together with a preening boy like him. And now she supposed she'd never have to, he appeared to have finally given up the pursuit and seemed happy with her offer of simple friendship. A sentence she never thought applicable to that indomitable force that was James Potter.

That thought had bothered her just weeks ago, when she first realised James had finally gotten over his unfathomable obsession. That little shameful part of her that always enjoyed the attention cried out in alarm for her sudden loss of desirability, but the rest of her dealt with it far more rationally, and allowed her a breath of relief. She did love being around Jame; he was a wonderful, funny guy, when he wasn't being obnoxious and mean. At least this way she could spend time with him without worrying about whether she could endure his swaggering arrogance to see a future for them.

That was at least one friendship simplified.

Lily cast her eyes out across the hall to the Slytherin table, picking out that thin brooding form of Severus Snape. As expected, no Valentine's cards sat upon his table. Even with so many admiring his stance and actions, none of that bled into his desirability. She remembered that it had never bothered him that he received no interest from any of the girls in Hogwarts. He never seemed to have any interest in anybody in return.

But that wasn't true.

Lily fought hard to stop the colour from touching her cheeks.

" _I love you."_

He confessed to her. Unmistakable and irrevocable words. Confirming everything she had suspected since the day that the doe in the bottle landed in her life.

Why hadn't she seen it before now? They'd known each other since they were nine. Sure, he was always eager to be around her, but he had so few others in his life. He would look away occasionally, fighting blushing cheeks himself, but Lily had always chalked that down to how shy he was and how easily embarrassed he could be. He never flirted, never made suggestive remarks, never gave her any indication of interest beyond her friendship and company.

And suddenly out of nowhere he told her he loves her. Okay maybe she pushed him a little but she certainly didn't do anything to prompt that heartfelt gift, and all the sentimental meaning brought with it.

Unable to stop the creeping blush any longer, Lily ducked her head behind her stack of cards, giving each another look over in case she missed that distinctive spikey writing. As expected, there wasn't anything. There was never anything. If this was a sudden development in feelings then he was not pursuing this as aggressively as she was used to. Perhaps he wasn't even aware today was a special day at all? It wouldn't surprise her in the least if even after six years of giggling girls and heart shaped post swirling about that he hadn't noticed Valentine's Day. But honestly, what kind of card could she really expect from Severus? He didn't strike her as a pink hearts kind of guy.

"Hey you got a good one there Lil's?" Marlene inquired curiously over her shoulder. "You're turning a tad red."

Lily squeaked and slammed the whole stack of cards down onto the table, turning every curious eye in the vicinity. Struggling in vain against the all-encompassing blush that conquered the territories of her neck, ears and cheeks, Lily pushed the image of a doe-shaped Valentine's card from her mind.

"Oooooh. Lil-y. You have a cru-sh." Susan's irritating singsong voice floated from across the table.

James, whose attention was caught along with everybody else's around her, turned away almost casually, as if he knew her thoughts were not about him. Did he know about Severus' crush? He certainly had insinuated it before. And if so, why would he be so accommodating? Surely their sudden loss of animosity didn't pave the grounds for division of territory? And if so, Lily did not much like the idea of being treated like spoils of war.

"So who is it?" Susan insisted. "Who's got you so worked up?"

"Well the most likely candidate is Severus Snape," Pandora added in her helpful but unwelcome sort of way. In her hands she held an anonymously sent card that had been discretely tucked into her bag. Unfortunately for her unknown admirer, she had treated it more like a puzzle than with any real interest.

"Ooooh. Is it Se-ve-rus?" Susan drawled in a singsong voice.

"No! Of course not!" Upon reflection she really shouldn't have put so much emphasis into her denials. Especially if she could not bring her blush under control.

Susan's eyes shot wide. With a disbelieving smirk and an overdramatic gasp, she asked, "Oh my god. Is it really him?"

Any answer she was expected to give was suddenly interrupted by what could only be described as a plague of owls descending upon the Hall. Literally hundreds of the feathered beasts, each of them bearing a heart-shaped card. All of them zipping for the Ravenclaw table, straight into a messy cluster over a single individual. Feathers and droppings rained down upon the students down below, sending screaming students diving under the table and out the door.

Lit redder than her hair and mortified beyond words, Lily could only be thankful for the sudden booming announcement from Professor McGonagall calling off breakfast, barely heard over the hoots and screeches of the disgruntled letter carriers. She took off along with the crowds of students pouring out to escape the chaotic mess, with every intention of losing her friends in the throng.

Only after the fact did Lily realise that the best way to avoid her friends was not by hiding in her room. Lily startled when the door swung open, fumbling and almost dropping the crystal bottle she was holding, and startling the little doe into hiding. Thankfully Severus had the foresight to charm the bottle to be unbreakable, but the idea of tempting fate set her teeth on edge.

When she had returned to the tower to while away her free period, Lily had ducked up to her room and out of public eye. After a quick scourging charm to rid herself of the feathers and owl muck, she had settled herself onto her covers and dug the beautiful little doe out of its hiding place in her duffle bag. It was a flight of fancy, a sudden unexplainable want for a glimpse at the beautiful creature. Watching its soulful eyes peer about it, its little ears twitching, little hooves lifting from the silver liquid in a prancing motion that never shifted it from its one spot in the centre.

And that was how she was caught, with Severus' bottled heart in her hands. She barely had time to stop herself from dropping the object, much less find some place discrete to stuff it. It was all she could do to cover it with her hands and pray to high Merlin that Susan wasn't one of the intruding persons.

And it appeared Merlin was merciful.

"That's where you went Lil's," Marlene exclaimed with a wide grin as she and Pandora entered. "I was afraid you were devoured by the descending swarm."

As Pandora summoned her bag from across the room, she offered helpfully, "Owls don't eat witches though." Unsurprisingly she completely missed the hyperbole it was intended to be.

"That was a mad morning wasn't it?" Lily asked with a smile, hoping her nervousness was not as apparent as she felt. "It looked like they were all delivering Valentine's to the same person."

"They were," Marlene muttered with exasperation. "I heard it was that second year fop of a Ravenclaw. You know, the one that keeps bragging about what a little prodigy he is."

Lily winced. A braggart that rivalled the narcissism of James Potter. "I didn't realise he was so popular."

The blond girl shook her head with a smirk. "He isn't. I've just passed a buzzing flock of Ravenclaws that swear up and down that they were all sent by himself."

Lily snorted and shook her head. "He could really give James Potter a run for his money."

Marlene suddenly dropped down next to Lily with a heavy plop, almost bumping her from her seat. "About that, Lily," She started hesitantly. Lily instantly tensed, not liking the tension she was sensing. "What's up between you and James?"

Lily blinked. "Nothing." And a lot more nothing since a fortnight ago.

"Will there be anything?" Marlene could barely meet her eyes.

 _Oh my goodness._ Lily blinked again, wrapping her mind around this creeping realisation. _Does she like James?_ "Marlene. You don't have to ask permission," Lily answered cautiously, watching for her reaction.

"Yeah but…" the tall girl mumbled, red colouring her cheeks, whisking away all doubt in the matter.

Merlin's beard, how did she miss this too? Had she been missing everything to do with best friends? All this time Lily had been all wishy washy with Potter, had Marlene been waiting patiently in the background?

"I'm serious, Marlene. Go for it," Lily insisted. James was a persistent and charming young man whose attentions had been flattering, but if Lily was at all honest she could do without his preening. Whatever could have been, whatever might have been possible for them, Lily felt she closed that door herself. "Ace Chaser with ace Chaser. You two would make an amazing couple."

Marlene grinned and pulled her smaller friend into a sudden rib-crushing embrace. "You really are the best yah know that Lil's?"

"Oh I never doubted it," Lily returned, words muffled against her friend's robes.

Pandora suddenly popped into their sphere of proximity with her plinking puffing pocket watch in hand. "Just a friendly reminder that we have class in fifteen minutes," she offered with a smile before slinking away once again. Lily laughed as she pulled out of Marlene's arms. It felt so nice to have good uncomplicated friends.

"By the way, what's that you're holding?" Marlene asked, popping the glowing girl out of her bubble of contentment.

The little bottle was clasped in her right hand, not at all properly covered from prying eyes. Her movements had jolted the little doe away but before she could move to cover it up the magical creature formed again.

"Holy Godric's Underpants! What is that?" Marlene's eyes grew wide with childish delight.

Lily struggled for a moment with the moral dilemma of answering with a lie. She settled on an incomplete truth. "A birthday present," she murmured, feeling the colour trickling into her cheeks.

"Whoa. From who?" Marlene's questions were innocently curious, she knew not what nest she stirred.

In the moment of silence that ensued, Lily actually thought she might have been able to get away without an answer, but unfortunately a helpful voice peeped up. "From Severus Snape." Pandora answered, striding over once again.

Suddenly Marlene snorted, her eyes rolling in such dramatic disbelief. "Right. Good one Pandy."

Lily didn't know why she took such offence to that tone. "I'll have you know it's true. Severus made it for me."

It didn't appear to click right away, but slowly Marlene's snarky expression rearranged itself. "Wait. You're serious?"

"Completely."

"But…" The disbelief began anew. "It's so pretty."

"That it is."

"And he's… well."

Lily's eyebrow shot up. "Not?"

Marlene backpedalled. "I was going to say that he didn't seem the type that did pretty. He didn't seem to have a whole lot of-," she gestured wildly. "- _that_ … on the inside."

"I'll have you know he has a lot of _that_ - _"_ Lily gestured with the bottle, shaking the little doe away. "-on the inside. In fact, this is his Patronus."

Pandora was instantly at her side. "What, really?" She peered insistently at the little doe forming in her grasping hand. "He can actually do a corporeal Patronus?"

"I did say he could before," Lily replied, feeling a little knocked off balance.

"I always thought you meant he could do it incorporeally, you know, the mist-form."

Lily shook her head. "Even I can do that."

"Oh really?" Pandora squawked with delight. "I read the spell was essential for any who face dark creatures. Its main use is the repelling of Dementors and with sub notes on promising results against Lethifold attacks. But the downside of the spell being it is a really tough bit of magic to learn. I really should come on one of your Patronus lessons one day. It sounds marvellously enlightening!"

"I think you'd be the third wheel there, Pandy." Marlene re-entered the conversation with a smirk.

Lily's heart dropped. _Et Tu Marlene?_

"Seriously though, Lily. His spirit animal is a freakin' doe?" Marlene looked as if she was on the verge of hilarities.

"It does seem rather ill-fitting," the level-headed Pandora observed.

Marlene nodded vigorously. "Yeah I mean if I had to guess an animal, I would have said a bat."

"Or a crow," Pandora added.

"Or a snake."

"Or a lizard."

"Or the grumpiest cat you can imagine," Lily finished with a sigh. "Yeah I know, I thought the same."

"But instead it's a girly little doe. Blow me away." Marlene shook her head with a snort.

Lily suddenly felt extremely self-conscious on behalf of Sev. It only occurred to her that he probably wouldn't appreciate Lily sharing this information around. Especially not when it would eventually be determined that Lily's Patronus was also the same. There would be awkward explanations in their future.

Pandora cleared her throat and produced her pocket watch once again. "Well, as much as this conversation has been enlightening, I do insist, class."

* * *

If there was any way today could be more mortifying then Snape dreaded to see what the afternoon would bring. The fact that Professor Leafley had chosen today of all days to teach the topic she chose to teach could only be chalked down to the universe's dark sense of humour raining down on him.

"Good morning class. Now this being Valentine's Day, I thought it would be most appropriate to learn about a defensive spell close to my heart. Quite literally."

Upon those words, the hairs on the back of Snape's neck stood up.

"I am talking of course about the Patronus Charm!" the Professor announced with a smile and a flourish.

Suddenly, Snape wished he was dead again. At the front of the class he saw Lily turn slightly, her rivers of red hair cascading with her movement. He got the distinct feeling she might be peering at him through the strands. He burned red at the thought and hid his face behind his own hair.

"Now who can tell me what this defensive charm is for?"

Out shot a hand from a Gryffindor at the front of class. "A powerful weapon against the most deadly of Dark Creatures, ma'am." She quoted in a far more airy tone than he was honestly used to from a know-it-all Gryffindor. "It drives away Dementors and can be used to repel Lethifolds."

"Very good, Ms McGonagall," beamed the flowery professor, "five points to Gryffindor."

McGonagall. He remembered he went to school with a McGonagall, and it really only just occurred to him that there might be family associations with the better known namesake.

"Many of you might have read up on this spell. An advanced charm formed almost entirely from happiness. What's so difficult about that, you wonder? Anyone want to take a stab?" Professor Leafley looked pointedly at the McGonagall girl again.

However it wasn't that know-it-all that answered. "It's not as simple as merely happy memories." Lily's voice sounded across the classroom. "It has to be something that is life changing at the moment it happened that still affects you to this day. The stronger the joy, the stronger the Patronus."

The Professor beamed. "Very good. Ms Evans was it? Another five points to Gryffindor. Goodness it really is the lion's day isn't it?"

Suddenly another Gryffindor's hand shot up. That blond witch that always sat beside Lily whenever they had class together. "Miss! I heard these Patronuses can take on shapes of animals." With an almost snarky smirk the girl turned to glimpse down the back of the class, straight at the shirking Slytherin.

 _Oh good grief. Lily. You didn't…_

Snape scowled into his desk, burning red. He had no illusions about those Gryffindors that shared her room catching a glimpse of the present he sent her, but he had expected the girl to have the sense to keep the fact that it was from him a secret, or at the very least the fact that it was his Patronus.

Professor Leafley smiled. "You would be right Ms… uh."

"McKinnon," The girl helpfully supplied, not at all offended that her previous contributions had never been remembered.

"Ms McKinnon," the professor continued, "the final form of the Patronus takes on the form of a living creature that most reflects the heart of the caster, not unlike that for an Animagus. But what you speak of is unfortunately a higher tier of the Patronus that I'm afraid I am not qualified to teach you."

With a circular swish of her wand and an incantation, Professor Leafley conjured a thick mist that settled briefly before vanishing. "For you see, what it requires is something that I'm afraid I simply cannot find. Perhaps I have not found it yet, but I hear tale that some never do. Alas I cannot show you."

Snape saw Lily shrink into her seat. No doubt the memories of Saturday were evoked by this ill-timed topic. If he could turn back time again, he would make it his mission to stop himself from ever saying something so stupid. With one poorly thought out utterance he might have destroyed, yet again, all that he had regained. It was honestly almost Déjà vu.

"However, I have heard that Minerva is able to cast a full-bodied Patronus." Leafley continued with a exuberantly bright smile. "I mean, your own Professor McGonagall. If you're still interested in a demonstration she'll be the witch to ask."

Snape could not imagine Minerva being pleased to be harassed by throngs of curious students for the casting of such a private spell for their amusement, but perhaps she wouldn't be bothered at all. Perhaps she'd even be pleased by their curiosity. Indeed, she had never shied away from the spell in the presence of others before. Perhaps Snape was alone in his reluctance. After all he had never met another that hid their Patronus so, with the exception of Lupin, and the idea of sharing a trait in common with that werewolf turned his stomach.

"Snape can do it too!"

His stomach dropped at that sudden announcement. Two dozen pairs of eyes swung around to stare as Snape shrivelled in his seat, cursing that McKinnon girl and Lily's bad judgement.

Clapping in delight Leafley exclaimed, "Why that would be quite amazing! We would all be delighted for a demonstration, Mr Snape!"

 _No no no no no no no!_

Snape shook his head, not willing to emerge from his curtain of hair. Curse that McKinnon girl and her big mouth. Curse every smirking, privacy invading, intentionally malicious child!

"Expecto Patronum!" Lily's voice called out, causing every staring eye to swing about back to the front. Before the class her mist-form Patronus slowly coalesced into a vague form of a creature, but before it could fully form in any meaningful way, it vanished. The shape of the doe was one that no one should really be able to recognise without the instinctive recognition that she and Snape shared, at least he hoped.

"Oh my, that was marvellous Ms Evans!" Professor Leafley exclaimed. "You show incredibly advanced form. Twenty points to Gryffindor for that spectacular display."

Lily shifted in her seat, distinctly uncomfortable. "But mine's still not corporeal though."

The professor appeared unbothered by that fact. "Why my dear, you have already reached a level in the spell many cannot. The corporeal Patronus is an extremely difficult tier to reach. Few can touch upon those moments of happiness that define their soul. Most never do."

Snape could not blame her for the cringe she slumped into, nor could he stop himself from doing the same. Why was this day conspiring against him so? Why did everything have to remind her about how pathetically he still clung to her?

Snape kept his face turned downwards, but could not find it in himself to pry his eyes away from her form. Still pitifully hopeful against all the wisdom that his adult experiences brought.

She turned slightly, auburn hair still hiding her from sight, but he could not shake the sense that those bright green eyes peered at him from just beyond the veil.

* * *

"I still cannot believe you did that to him, Marlene," Lily grumbled as she and her best friend trudged up from the Potions classroom. "He spent the entire class with his eyes fixed to his bench, looking utterly miserable. And Potions is his favourite subject!"

Marlene snorted. "Spent all class looking at him, did you?"

Lily sighed and rolled her eyes, not even dignifying that with an answer.

The two friends had just left Potions Class, being the last to leave they had the pleasure of trudging up the dungeon corridors alone, soaking up that lovely dark dank atmosphere. Not even the merry crackling of the hanging braziers could lend enough light to dispel the seemingly unnatural darkness down there.

"Don't make fun of him, Marlene," Lily finally begged, "he doesn't deserve that."

Without an ounce of contrition Marlene replied with a shrug, "Hey I'm sure it didn't help that you decided to give Slughorn a Valentine's gift and not broody Mc-Long-Nose."

"It was a thank you gift for the book on Entwining Charms Work he gifted me last Christmas!" Lily retorted quite sharply. "I hadn't been available for the Christmas party this year and he took the time to track me down after the holidays to give it to me."

Marlene snorted and rolled her eyes, "Yeah. Thought you were going to wait until next month to give it to him. Said it wasn't ready, didn't you?"

Lily flushed. "I figured out the kinks. It really isn't too difficult to turn a flower petal into a goldfish when you revise the Paradigm of Molak's Simulated Motion Postulates."

"Yeah right. You just wanted to get Sevvy's attention." Marlene was being obnoxious on purpose.

Lily chose to purposefully ignore that. "It honestly was that little spell suspension charm that had me in knots. I've never spell crafted before." Actually, if truth be told, it wasn't so much spell crafting, more like spell weaving. The book Slughorn had gifted her had been a fascinating read on the basics and effects of combining spells, as well as finding the correct casting structure to produce the effect you desired. Apparently it was a form of spell crafting, but Lily could not see this process in anyway resembling what Severus used to do.

She once watched him work for several hours, pouring over his spikey notes scribbled all over his little scraps of paper, every now and then tracing elaborate shapes in the air with his wand while muttering under his breath. In comparison, all she did was think of two spells that did not go together, then somehow make them go together. It honestly helped that she was so in tune with her magical ability, she could shift the spells about with appropriate finesse and feel it when things clicked. Like the Stasis Charm with the flower-petal-to-goldfish transfiguration spell.

When Professor Slughorn entered the class, Lily had the bowl settled right in the centre of his desk, an eye drawing feature for the curious old man. She could not see how the results of the spell had fared, frankly she was terrified it would be the one to break the mould and do something completely unintentional. Explosions rated high on her list of fears. However all her worries were laid to rest the moment that smile of delight stretched across Slughorn's plump cheeks.

Lily's little display resulted in both her and Marlene being made to stay over an hour after class having been enticed into conversation over a bottle of Honey Bouquet Aromatic Wine. Even without the little magical assistance in the Professor's mood, Lily and Marlene were both members of the Slug Club, indeed favourites, a fact that Slughorn never failed to remind them. It was only over the looming call of dinner did Slughorn finally relent to letting them both go.

And even after everything, she failed to get Severus to look at her even once.

Not that she'd ever admit it but a big part of the reason why she rushed to deploy her gift, even when she still didn't yet feel fully confident, was for her best friend's benefit. She wanted to remind him of his gift, in an admittedly abstract roundabout and no doubt infuriatingly indirect sort of way. But it was the only method she could think of to generate conversation with him without getting his hopes up prematurely or crushing him with clumsy indifference.

"Well it certainly made ol' Sluggy very happy, your goldfish trick," Marlene quipped in a quite chipper manner. "By comparison Mr-doe eyes couldn't be out of there fast enough. If you were trying to make the poor guy jealous, mission accomplished."

Lily sighed, fingers pressed to her temples. Marlene was right. The moment class ceased, out the door went Severus, along with her hopes and expectations, flying like Dementors nipped at his cloak tails. "Why do you get to make jokes about that? He shouldn't be mocked just because he might suddenly have an interest in me."

Marlene snorted ludicrously. "What? You think this is a sudden thing?"

Lily peered at her friend quizzically. "Well if it wasn't then it's certainly news to me."

"Lily, oh Lily. My dear, sweet Lily." Marlene shook her head with a dramatic sigh. "He's been stuck to you since day one, week one of year one. He gets all prickly and jealous when others are around and hangs on to your every word like you're the second coming of Merlin himself. Of course he has the hots for you."

"He stuck close to me because we were friends since before Hogwarts. He's not got a lot of other friends," Lily responded almost desperately. All of those observations rang true for both scenarios, though somehow, now, her theory felt far less likely.

Marlene appeared to feel the same. "Suuuure. Six years stuck to the hip with the cutest girl in school and he doesn't feel the tickle in his trousers?"

"Marlene!" That blush was back, and she was powerless within its grasp.

"I'm sure the gooey eyes he's got for you when you're not watching really is just to gauge how platonic his affection is for you. Probably keeps a lock of your hair in his diary in a completely friendship-related sort of way."

Lily smouldered red, a fact that no doubt encouraged Marlene to take pity as her next words were far more merciful. "Face it Lil's, he likes you. That pretty little doe wasn't for just a friendly 'how do you do'."

"I know," Lily finally relented, "I know he fancies me." She shook her head, dispelling the terrible blush. "He told me so. On Saturday."

"Holy shit," was what came out of Marlene's mouth. Lily brought her eyes up to meet the shocked stare of her Gryffindor best friend. "He actually confessed? As in out of his mouth? As in willingly?"

"Essentially…" Lily mumbled, noting there might have been a little duress involved.

Marlene gave a low whistle. "Didn't think he'd have the guts… Well, you at least let him down gently right?"

Lily didn't answer. Marlene did a double take. "Oh no. You're the one that wimped out!"

"I didn't know what to say," Lily admitted in a small miserable voice.

"You tell him no. Firmly, politely and as quickly as possible. Don't string him along Lil's, that's the least cool thing you can do."

"I… actually wasn't going to say no."

The silence that followed caused Lily to peer up at her friend to assure herself Marlene hadn't passed out still walking. Her eyes were open, which was promising, but the look of horror on her face was anything but.

"Now before you tell me what a dolt I am, hear me out," Lily said in a rush even though there was no real risk of interruption from the currently stupefied Marlene. "Severus has really changed. I mean _really,_ _ **really**_ changed. And I really like the new him. Truly." Her cheeks were beginning to burn again. "I just can't help but think that all this change he put himself through was… for me. Oh Merlin, now that I've said that out loud I feel like a vain prat." The words poured from her mouth like a litany of excuses. Lily rubbed her cheeks, willing the heat to dissipate. "I just… don't want to discourage him. I don't want him to feel like he's done all that in vain. I don't-"

"Lily! You will not martyr yourself out of pity!" Marlene barked harshly, having finally unstuck her tongue. "Dating someone because you don't want him to feel discouraged is by far one of the dumbest things I've ever heard! What about you huh Lily? Don't you want someone that's actually worth you? And what about him? You going to be his girlfriend or his Parole Auror? That would be worthy of neither of you!"

Lily lowered her heard, appropriately humbled. "You're right Marlene…" she mumbled. "I like him, I really do. It's just…" She trailed off, struggling for an excuse that refused to come to mind.

"He's ugly," Marlene finished flatly.

Lily sighed. "Why does everything have to come down to his appearance?"

"What? You gonna pretend his broom-accident of a mug doesn't have anything to do with his desirability?"

"He's not _**that**_ ugly!" Lily pouted, Severus' long thin face swam up to the surface of her mind. There was honestly very little that worked for him in attractiveness. He was awfully skinny, so skinny that it made his disproportionately large hooked nose sit all the more awkwardly upon his sallow face. His hair was greasy, no matter how often he washed it, and she knew he maintained strict personal hygiene. There was no other way he could have avoided smelling of alcohol living in the household he came from. His teeth too were all crooked, an all too unavoidable sight whenever he cracked a smile.

But he'd not smiled in months. That crooked-tooth smile Lily remembered was a sight she could not recall from any recent memory. And the thought ached her heart so. What happened to the Severus that would smile so brightly for her? Instead, the boy he was now could barely manage a lopsided twitch of the lips. His dark eyes were set deep and sunken within his skull, giving the black pits of his pupils an almost sinister look. Lily had always been mesmerised by the fathomless depth those pupils held, but now those deep dark eyes looked at her with such aching sadness that her heart twisted when she met them.

"Honestly Marlene. I've known him for so long. If his looks could scare me off it would have done so already," Lily muttered with a tired smile.

Marlene grimaced back dryly, "Makes a real difference when you're about to snog him, trust me."

"Oh I don't know." Lily shrugged with an almost casual sort of air. "His teeth might make it an adventure."

The silence that followed that statement was punctured with a snort, and Lily couldn't tell which girl cracked first. Laughter peeled through the dark hallway, neither girl paying heed to the fact that they were not out of the dungeons. The instinctive worry every Gryffindor had for stepping foot in Slytherin territory was not paid the heed it deserved.

Neither girl noticed the shadow that fell across them until the shout of "Stupefy!" rang out and Marlene hit the floor.

The laughter turned into a gasp as Lily fumbled for her wand and turned, only to stand face to face with the smirking forms of two older Slytherin boys.

"Expelliarmus." One of them commanded with a lazy flick. Lily's wand disappeared with a clack and a rattle.

"She the girl, Wilkes?" The other boy asked, the curiosity of his voice did nothing to offset the malicious smirk upon his face.

"Red head. Gryffindor. Pretty face and prettier everything else. I can think of no other that fits the description, Travers."

Lily's eyes grew round as she backed a step. She needed her wand. She took her eyes off the two Slytherins for a split second, and that was all it took for Travers to close the gap.

The Slytherin boy strode straight into her personal space, herding her against the wall. Lily shrank back, eyes wide. "You're real pretty." He growled in a way that made her skin crawl. "I can see why Snape lost his head over you." He brought his wand up and ran the tip down her cheek. "Nothing personal little kitten, but traitors need to be punished."

Lily muttered under her breath.

Travers leant in. "What's that, little kitten? Didn't catch that."

"I said... Stupefy!" Lily brought her hands against the Slytherin's chest, flinging the surprised boy away with her sudden wandless invocation. Travers went down in a flurry of curses and flailing limbs.

Before Lily could centre herself again the second boy waded into the fray. "Langlock" He commanded, wand pointed straight at Lily's face. She had neither even the time nor wit to avoid it. Her tongue seized up against the roof of her mouth, choking her mid incantation.

"You mudblood whore!" Travers roared as he pulled himself unsteadily upright. Despite being hit squarely with the stunner, he was still conscious. Lily had not cast it correctly. She was panicked, and that did not create the best environment to cast an unpractised wandless spell.

Lily struggled against her petrified tongue, desperately looking for a way to fight back. She cast her eyes about her in panic, looking for where her wand had landed.

"You're not going anywhere!" Travers snarled, lunging towards her. Lily tried to sidestep but could not move fast enough. She barely had the time to even gasp when the larger boy slammed her against the wall, knocking the air from her lungs. He pressed his arm across her throat and his wand against her cheek. "Wasn't supposed to be personal but now I'm going to take the time to enjoy this!"

Lily cast her eyes about the ceiling in desperation, unable to turn her eyes downwards. Silently she pushed her magic out, flailing about with her wild power, desperately trying to make something happen and, as if in answer to her distress, a brazier above them begun to rock gently back and forth. Lily calmed her breathing and focused everything she had on that one spot, pulling in every strand of magic she could find.

 _ **Crack!**_

The cast iron pan split in half, dropping smouldering coals onto the two struggling students beneath it. Lily averted her eyes to avoid the falling sparks, Travers hissed and raised his arm to shield himself from the spray of embers, giving the Gryffindor girl an opportunity to wriggle from his grasp and fall scrambling to the floor.

With a roar Travers lunged at her, his wand still grasped within his veiny hand yet disregarded as he clawed for her, his face twisted in a furious maddened teeth-baring scowl. Lily kicked out, catching the boy in the chin, but rather than stopping his advance she only infuriated him further.

Lily flung her hand above her head, willing her magic to respond, desperately hoping the wildly cast Reductor Curse to not just be a one-off fluke. Lily breathed out and willed her wand towards her, and breathed out in relief when her wand answered.

With weapon in hand, Lily pointed it straight at the throat of the boy attempting to pin her, and with a surprised holler Travers was flung from her, going down again, flailing and cursing.

"Disarm her Wilkes!"he choked as he pulled himself upright through his bruised windpipe.

Lily scrambled to find her feet, her eyes swinging about to face the second opponent she had all but forgotten about. Loud echoing footsteps announced the looming approach of another as Lily braced herself, throwing shields about her.

But the assault never came.

Instead Wilkes collapsed to the ground, the red spell vapour fading from his back.

James stood at the end of the hallway, breathing hard, his hazel eyes bright with anxiety and rage. "Lily!" he called as he jogged towards her, holding his side as if warding against a stitch.

With a gasping roar, Travers lunged for James' legs. The Gryffindor boy's eyes had been glued to Lily and missed the assault from below. The two went down in a tangle of arms and legs, fighting like muggles, wands forgotten.

Lily pointed her wand at the Slytherin boy's face and wordlessly cast the Knock Back Jinx again. She heard the crack of his nose breaking as the force dislodged him from his hold on his opponent, but this time he was not afforded the opportunity to get up. Black rounded the corner, far less winded by his pace, and flattened the aggressing boy with one swift curse.

"Blimey, I really cocked that rescue up," James gasped as he wiped the blood from his mouth. Travers got a good two solid hits in before Lily could separate the two.

Remus slid around the corner, and though he hadn't been belting down like James had he was no less worn from his efforts. "Lily- You- Are you- hurt?" he gasped between breaths.

Lily shook her head and gestured vaguely with her hands.

"What's wrong with you?" Black asked, but his eyes did not lift from the prone forms of the two Slytherins.

Remus limped over, passing his lit wand tip over Lily's muted form. "Ah, Langlock," he muttered breathily, his breath not quite caught, "one of your dear friend's marvellous inventions."

Lily pouted and tapped her foot, hoping Remus got the message and would get on with dispelling it. Thankfully he was not the sort of friend that left another hanging.

"Finite," he ordered with a quick pass of his wand, and immediately Lily's tongue reverted to its limber form, allowing her to finally sigh with relief.

"Thank you," she uttered with a shaky breath. "All of you for coming to find me."

"They hurt you?" James insisted with an air of panic. His hands shot up to touch her but out of nervous instinct she shrank back.

Lily shook her head as the worried boy backed away a step. "I'm okay. Thanks," she muttered, suddenly unable to meet his eyes over the roaring thud of her own heartbeat. The danger was over, but her nerves was still jumping.

Black grunted, planting his shoe roughly against the side of one of the unconscious Slytherin's head. "Damned snakes. Jumping girls in the bloody dungeon corridor. Not a streak of nobility between the lot of them."

Lily started. "Oh no! Marlene!"

James didn't need to be told twice. He nodded and strode off down the corridor, the omniscient map held before him.

"Are you really alright?" Remus asked, his brows scrunched in worry. Lily nodded with a quick smile to dispel her friend's worry. As if sensing what she needed him to do, the empathetic boy turned his eyes away and kept speaking. "James was watching the map over dinner. He got worried when you and Marlene didn't show up. Peter had told us you two were staying for a drink with Professor Slughorn but just to be sure, James kept watching. The moment he saw the two Slytherins appear he acted."

Running footsteps rang from around the bend yet again. Lily tensed up on reflex but Remus appeared unstartled. "Ah that must be Peter."

"Took Wormtail long enough," Black growled.

But the person who rounded the corner was not the short chubby form of Peter Pettigrew.

It was Severus.

Anger mixed with wide eyed terror, his breaths coming up in choking rasps. "Lily-" He gasped, unable to summon the breath necessary to continue speaking.

"I'm alright." She quickly answered, trying to ease the panic that took hold of him. Trying to dispel her own panic that flared up in that moment.

Peter finally stumbled in, slumping against the wall in wheezing breath. "Took you long enough to fetch Snivellus." Black barked, not in the mood to cut his less hardy friend some slack.

"The important thing is he got here," James stated far more generously, bracing the woozy but conscious Marlene.

"Heckling Hippogriffs, Lily. What happened to you?" Marlene asked through bleary eyes.

"I'm okay." the recovering girl insisted again.

A gentle brush of fingers against her cheek caused her to start, almost barrelling into the wall in alarm. Severus withdrew, his eyes wide with panic.

"Soot. On your face," he grunted, suddenly unable to look at her. Lily touched her fingers to her face, and it came away with flecks of black. "Did they come after you because of me?"

"N-no!" Lily answered, certain her lie convinced nobody.

Unable to meet her eyes, Severus turned away, conjuring stretchers for the two unconscious Slytherins.

"Hey mate, your girl is shaken up," James uttered, his expression incredulous. "She's a bit more your concern right now than those two vipers!"

"Should I be concerned about leaving her with you?" Severus retorted snappishly.

James bristled, "No. But-"

"Then I leave her in your care," Severus barked, his tone closing the discussion.

Lily watched on with a dull ache in her heart. She recognised his fear, that quick withdrawal when she reacted. "I'm alright Severus!" she called out.

 _Please. Don't avoid me._

She didn't know why that fear became so real.

Marlene pushed off the boy she was leaning on and held upon her unsteady feet. "Hey you arse! Lily needs you right now!"

James strode forward and caught the Slytherin boy by the arm. With a jerk Severus yanked himself out of his grip and hissed, "Don't you ever touch me again!"

"Hey man! I just saved your girl!" James ground out, disbelief upon his voice and features.

Severus calmed in that instant. Hesitantly he turned, casting a brief glance backwards towards the still shaken girl. Their eyes met, her bright green touching upon those dark pits with no end to its depth. "And for that I am grateful," he finally muttered, turning to James once again. "I will repay you appropriately."

"I don't ask for anything!" James retorted, "I just want you to show some basic human decency and make sure Lily's alright before you take your two damned snakes up to the Hospital Wing!"

A dark sneer touched Severus' lips. "Oh, they will not be going to the hospital wing." And with a sweep of his tattered cloak the Slytherin boy turned off the main dungeon path and stalked off deeper into its depth, the two occupied stretchers following behind him.

* * *

A/N: Early post again today. Work schedule clashing with post time again.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 3rd November 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 20: Dance of the Silver Does**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	20. Dance of the Silver Does

**Chapter 20: Dance of the Silver Does**

February was ending, and with it came the rise of the mercury and the receding of the snow. The temperature only started to venture above freezing during the day but compared to the severe minuses over the heart of winter this was positively tropical. But on this night the snow fall was back. Soft little flakes that fluttered against the window, a tribute to the last throes of winter.

Lily sat snugly in one of the corner lounges, watching the flurries of flakes batter against the sturdy windowpanes, reminding her of how cold it was beyond the warmth of the Gryffindor Common room hearth.

"How yah feeling Lil's?" Marlene asked with concern, leaning forward in her seat opposite. Lily's Gryffindor best friend had been treating her with kiddy gloves ever since that incident over a week ago.

"I'm fine Marlene," Lily replied, shifting the book on her knees. "Just thinking about the chapter I just read."

It was a lie of course, but she didn't want to concern Marlene. Not the 'fine' part. Lily got over that little scare within a week. In the day proceeding the encounter Lily ran into the two rogue Slytherins again, sparking every nerve of caution and fright to flare. But confusingly, it appeared the same could be said of them. With one look they both took off running, holding their heads as if wracked with pain. It appeared whatever Severus had done to them it resulted in their inability to tolerate Lily's presence, a fact she frankly grateful for.

But so too was noted Severus' lacking presence.

The Tuesday morning after that incident, Lily arrived into Charms class and noticed immediately Severus was not sitting in the back. His housemates were all seated in their usual spots, apparently unruffled by their most studious member's absence.

She did not approach them to ask that day, feeling both annoyed and frankly still a little shaken. No matter how embarrassed Sev might have still been from their frankly awkward encounter on Saturday he should have at least scraped up the courage or the common decency to see her and make sure she was alright.

That stance mellowed in the following days as she finally caught sight of the boy, stumbling down the seventh-floor corridor to his Alchemy class as if he was still half asleep. Indeed, he might as well have been asleep, considering he stumbled right past Lily without even noticing her presence. Though it was possible he was ignoring her she didn't feel it likely that she wouldn't even get a single flicker of recognition in his pitch-black eyes.

Though in the days following he appeared to recover, but he still hadn't been more forthcoming. Though his countenance appeared to recover, his psyche fared far less well. He would avoid her approach like the plague, refusing to even sit with her for studies. Even going so far as to avert his eyes every time she met them, a powerful shame clouding his features. It didn't take a stretch of the imagination to think Severus might blame himself for what happened, after all both Travers and Wilkes had named him as their motive. Not to mention the timing of the incident could not have been worse. The guilt the incident kicked up would have run straight into the humiliation that would no doubt be still lingering from Lily's wishy-washy response to his confession.

As her father would have called it, it was the Murphy's Law of scenarios.

However, if he thought the way to deal with this frankly minor threat was to treat her like a leper then he was as idiotic and bull-headed as the boy she had once tried to leave behind. She and all the friends that surrounded her had since taken greater precautions with their safety. Lily, for one, had been practicing her wandless defensive spells like a demon, even going so far as to attempt some confidence in a handful wordlessly as well, starting with summoning. A demonstration of her shaky, newly acquired abilities delighted Professor Flitwick to no end. Not Severus though. He wouldn't even look up from his desk at her.

Lily sighed as she leaned back in her armchair, prompting Marlene to look up from her textbook. "Something wrong?" she asked in her suddenly too often high-strung kind of way.

"Just… not getting this concept," Lily lied. Marlene too had been acting off as late. This very behaviour of sitting demurely to study was so unlike her that Lily could swear she was the one still suffering the terrors of the attack. Indeed, mere hours after the incident Marlene had been lamenting loudly over her embarrassment of being downed so quickly and detailed in great lengths of how she would have dealt with the two Slytherin thugs had she been in possession of her faculties.

Lily believed her friend to be genuinely brave, and did not doubt she would have done all that she claimed had she been conscious. But she hadn't been. She was stunned within seconds of the ordeal. And that vulnerability had shaken her once-confident friend to the core.

"Want to just call it a night?" Lily asked her friend and current study mate. "My mind's just drifting too much to focus."

"You go on ahead." Marlene mumbled into her textbook. Lily gave her a sympathetic smile and a quick squeeze of the shoulder and slunk away.

Before she headed back up to her room however, Lily felt she ought to at least say goodnight to all of her friends. The Marauders sat huddled in the darkened corner of the room, pouring over that map of theirs. It was almost exactly a week before the full moon, and the sight of them huddled in excited whispers was not an uncommon sight around this time.

Except this time the excitement felt different. It felt tense, and fraught with doubt.

"-Still don't like it Prongs." Black's voice carried despite his efforts to subdue it. "When have we ever been able to trust him?"

With piqued curiosity Lily approached, and whether by her own adequate interpretation of stealth or due to the Marauder's engrossment in their conversation, she remained unnoticed.

"What exactly do you think he'd do, Padfoot? Poison Moony?" James asked in almost exasperation.

"I think he might well." Said Black, not backing down.

"He's doing this because he owes us. Poisoning is not how anyone shows gratitude."

"Anyone with an ounce of common decency maybe."

"If I may have an opinion in this." Remus' usually restrained voice sounded dangerously close to assertive. "If this potion does even half of what Snape claims it does I am willing to risk even the most vile poisons."

Lily froze mid-step, her heart skipped a beat. They were discussing Severus?

Black snorted. "Yeah, he sure knew how to catch you hook, line and sinker."

Peter unexpectedly squeaked up too, "How could a potion like this even exist without any known mention? I hadn't found any articles, modern or historical of this..."

"Exactly! See?" Black exclaimed as if his friend's doubt was all that was needed to seal this argument.

James however did not let up. "I've told you all already. The inventor is a friend of Dumbledore's, and he hasn't published the potions pending testing. Snape got permission to brew the thing for the purpose of collecting data."

"So Moony's just a test subject?"

"I'd gladly be a test subject for a potion like this!" The formidable tone of Remus' words startled Lily. She could never imagine her soft spoken friend ever raising his voice like so against any of his friends.

James stood with an air of finality about him. "Then that's settled. I'll go collect the dose tonight as arranged." He withdrew the silver bundle Lily recognised as his invisibility cloak and settled the fabric around him, shielding him from view.

"Still don't bloody like this." Black grumbled but he protested no more.

Striding quickly Lily headed for the portrait door, arriving just as she saw it open under unseen forces.

"Hold it!" She called out, causing the door to pause in hesitation. "James, I know it's you under there."

A bespectacled face appeared suddenly floating just at the threshold of the exit. "Lily." He hissed. "Look I know I'm breaking the rules but please just this once cut me some slack. It's for a good cause I swear."

Lily strode forward, in no way swayed by his plea, but not with the intention of stopping him. "I will. If you take me with you."

The floating head bobbled in surprise. "You want to break curfew with me?"

"You're going to see Severus, aren't you?" Lily asked as she stood chest to chest with the mostly invisible boy. "I overheard you talking."

"How much did you hear?" He demanded quite harshly.

"Enough." Lily returned. "And my demand is that I be taken along. If you must break the rules then it is my duty as a prefect to escort you." That was only part of the reason, but there was little chance she would be confessing to James that she wanted to meet Severus face to face without risk of disturbances.

His hand appeared out of the rippling air, running through the back of his floating head in an aggravated manner. "Fine. Get under here." He ordered, brushing his cloak open so Lily could step inside. "And stick closely by me. I'm going to have to stoop to fit us both."

Lily grinned as she obliged and was whisked away into the shadow of the night by the quietly grumbling boy.

* * *

"You're late!" Snape barked the moment the door to his lab swung open silently. With a sheepish grin on his face, James Potter slipped out from thin air, standing from an almost awkward stoop. The blasted tall boy had probably outgrown his cloak.

Incensed with anger he never failed to feel upon sight of the arrogant prat, and the annoyance of being made to wait he snapped. "Tomorrow you will arrive at eight o clock sharp. I don't care what excuses you have, I will not be made to wait for something I'm going to the trouble of making for you." The ingrate, the nerve of him, making him wait when he graciously gave his own time to brew this blasted Wolfsbane for his precious werewolf.

"Yes. Sorry. I will," Potter mumbled with a surprisingly cowed response.

Snape scowled, not entirely satisfied with the Marauder's response. The whole process could take upwards of five weeks when following the traditional methods, meaning a brewer could be stuck brewing for a full moon a month over before the current moon had even passed. It was honestly to his greatest of fortunes that Snape had, in his many forays into this tedious brew, figured out a far more efficient method that reduced the brew time to a mere two and a half weeks, including final steps.

He had committed himself to chase the transformation in March, the window he was working in being just under the minimum amount of time he had brewed, combining two day's work into one. He had even missed a day's worth of classes in the process and working himself to the point of exhaustion.

Most of the process was done in a large cauldron that required the highest time commitment in the first two days of its brew, but continued to take several minutes of every day proceeding with its ongoing treatment. The final step of the potion, however, had to be brewed individually, and took another good hour each to prepare, in a separate smaller cauldron at that. The final product had only twenty-four-hour effectiveness once the last step was taken, which made prebrewing all the batches impossible. It forced Snape to brew each dose in individual portions.

The cranky Potioneer ladled out the gloopy dollop into a plain dose vial and stoppered it with a careful shake. The blue gas that emitted from the substance already began to build beneath the stopper, but thankfully it did not seem to pose a problem. That was a fortunate thing because he did not relish the idea of rising before the light of dawn to brew a fresh batch for the sake of a Marauder.

"Have him take it first thing when he wakes tomorrow." Snape ordered as he handed the boy the vial. "Do not add anything to it, any attempts to make less foul the flavour will render it useless. And don't break it. I won't be brewing any replacements for missed doses."

James took it and stowed it with deliberate care. "Thanks. So, these doses have to be taken in the morning?"

"Or anytime during his waking hours if you think you can manage to dose him at the same time each day. If he lies down within an hour of drinking this potion I guarantee he will expel it."

"Alright." Potter readily agreed. "And how long does he have to take it for?"

Snape could not keep the exasperation from his voice. "Until the full moon. When do you think a potion to suppress werewolf ferality is best used?"

Potter visibly blanched, then had the gall to look angry. "Look man! Don't throw accusations around like-"

"Thank goodness you're the only halfwit to hear it then." Snape snapped, not at all eager for a sensitivity lesson after his tedious waiting. "Now if you'll excuse me I have equipment to clean and ingredients to stow away."

With a flick of his wand, the small cauldron began to scour itself while his ladles and stirring rods deposited themselves into the stone basin. Moving with finesse and efficiency he snapped a lid onto the cauldron of the unfinished portion, pushing the vent back so that excess gas wouldn't buckle the container. It was fortunate this part of the potion kept for two weeks in its unfinished form, giving Snape a far more comfortable window to juggle brewing with his timetable.

Potter watched on with a half-cowed expression. He glanced awkwardly about him in a confusing manner before Snape could take it no more and ordered him out with a bark of. "Leave. Now."

With a nod Potter complied without argument, a greater surprise to Snape than his cordiality. He slipped to the door and let himself out in a slow deliberate motion, leaving Snape to stew once more in his solitude.

* * *

Lily let out her bated breath the moment James stepped back under his cloak.

"Moony's gonna kill me. I did not mean for you to hear that," James muttered as they rounded the corner. They were sneaking through Slytherin territory past curfew, and neither of them wished to make a lot of sound.

A small chuckle left Lily along with a portion of her tension. "If you mean about him being a werewolf you needn't bother worrying yourself. I've known forever now."

"Really?" James looked so surprised it was almost insulting.

"Of course. I'm not an idiot." Lily could not stop that roll of her eyes. Except oblivious was exactly what she had thought of James before now. "How long have you known?" she asked, a question deliberately crafted to seem like she hadn't thought him ignorant.

"Since Second Year," James answered with a rueful smile, "It was kind of hard not to notice how he disappears once a month when you share a room with him."

Apparently, James' insane ego had not made him blind to his friend's plight after all. Lily flushed, she had honestly given James too little credit for too long.

"Ever since then however," James continued, his eyes cast forward, a smile edging across his face, "we've endeavoured to make sure Remus didn't have to suffer this alone. We used to wait for him in the hospital wing after full moons and spend the day with him there. That was, until we found a better solution."

Lily could not help but smile, the revelation of the truth of their friendship touched her deeply. "What might that be?" she asked.

The smile slipped off James' face. "Uhh…"

Lily urged gently. "Honestly James. At this point I don't think there's anything you could tell me that could make me mad at you."

"Umm." The bespectacled boy made an awkward shrug, the crouch he was forced to do to share his cloak with Lily made it difficult for him to move freely. "I feel like this one might be taking the cauldron cake a bit."

"Try me," Lily prompted with a raise of her eyebrow.

"We're illegal Animagus," James blurted out suddenly, as if that confession had been niggling at him for a while. Indeed, by that proud little smile he was fighting down it was obvious why. "We use our animal forms to hang out with him on full moons. Werewolves only actively hunt humans after all."

Though she had just claimed she would be cool with his confession she could not help that little reactive start. "That's illegal!"

"Oh, I am aware." James nodded cockily. "Hence the term illegal Animagus."

"I mean there are serious repercussions if you're caught."

James turned with one upraised eyebrow. "Why? Are you going to turn me in?"

"No." Lily shook her head vigorously. "But I'm seriously scared for you now."

"Keep mum and we'll be fine," James replied with a smile and a wink.

Lily turned away, her sudden bristle of anxiety causing her to fidget under that cloak.

"Quit your nervous twitching Lily. You're tickling me in all the wrong ways," James grumbled, trying to shift away from her without pulling the cloak up about his ankles. They had stepped through into the Entrance Hall now and the threat of patrolling teachers and Caretaker became all the more real.

"Sorry," Lily mumbled and attempted to hold still. "So what does Sev have to do with any of this?" She asked trying to change the topic.

James grinned then, not in his arrogant way but with genuine thankfulness. "That is where things get weird."

"Weirder than finding out you four Marauders are actually Animagus?" She tried her best not to be too much louder than a whisper.

"Three actually," James corrected, "and yeah. Weirder. Because we genuinely don't expect human kindness from Snape."

"He's not a monster," Lily muttered.

"I can see that now." James muttered back, the touch of shame upon his features surprised Lily. "Just this Monday he approached Remus in their morning Arithmancy class together and told him he had a solution for his Lycanthropy. When Remus had repeated his words on to us we were all sceptical at first so we agreed to come down to talk to Snape together. Turned out he was brewing that big cauldron of stuff, and had been doing so since the day after… that dungeon corridor incident." He muttered, glancing at Lily cautiously.

"I'm fine now." Lily shrugged. "Go on."

"Well see Snape explained to us there was this miraculous potion that allowed the human side to stay in control during transformation."

Lily gasped. "That sounds too good to be true."

"Yeah we thought so too. I mean Moony was over the full bloody moon at the thought but the rest of us were a bit more cautious about the idea. But Snape explained the potion wasn't his invention, it was already created by some bigshot potioneer that I've never heard of who invented a recipe that doesn't even really exist yet."

Lily raised a sceptical eyebrow. "How would he have gotten hold of the recipe then?"

"I asked that too. Apparently Dumbledore was friends with the potioneer and had mentioned it to him during a tutorial session once. Well when I went to ask old gramps about it, he confirmed that the thing exists and that he had given Snape permission to brew it. I saw no reason to doubt any longer." He grinned that bright white even teethed grin. "Turned out Snape had been quite insistent in being allowed to do so, stating it was to repay the debt he owed… for saving you." His smile faltered, momentarily awkward. "I mean we told him it was our pleasure, and he didn't owe us anything for helping you-"

"I'm absolutely happy to be the excuse," Lily quickly interrupted.

"And thank you for doing so. Because I'll be damned if I've ever seen Remus so happy going into a full moon." James' grin returned in full force.

Lily's heart swelled, she could not help but feel the infectious jubilance upon James' excited face. To see how much good Severus had done, how much good he was doing, and how much more he still could do. Her clever, noble Sev.

"See?" Lily couldn't help that well of pride growing within her own chest. "I told you Sev was a good guy."

"I concede you might be right," James returned easily.

"I'm just so happy things have turned out like this," Lily muttered, riding the wave of euphoria.

James' smile faded, his grin receding into an awkward smirk. "I guess you chose well. I was worried at first, but you were right. Your boyfriend's a decent bloke."

Lily turned away, feeling her smile suddenly recede. That urge to correct that assertion did not flare as she thought it would. Hoped it would, perhaps. With a subtle turn she cast a sidelong glance at James' handsome profile. His eyes were pointed forward again, his lips settled back to an easy smile.

Handsome, kind and noble, so noble. That was the kind of man James was. How many others would have gone to the lengths he did for a suffering friend? Who would have risked so much just to ensure a werewolf did not have to endure the curse alone?

Had she ever been meant to fall in love with James Potter, this would have been the moment.

Lily looked away, confused by the thought. Why hadn't she fallen for him? He was a far deeper man than she had ever given him credit for, a far nobler soul than he had ever pretended to be. So why didn't she fall in love?

Her heart beat in a slow dull rhythm, the rush of blood sounded in her ears, bringing with it a creeping realisation. An improbable, ridiculous, exhilarating realisation.

In her heart, where things that find their way in would seldom get dislodged, already stood a man with a noble soul.

As a gift of whimsical wisdom Albus Dumbledore had once told her, _'It is with wisdom we are able to see the faults within ourselves. It is with courage we find the strength to fix them."_

If so there were few men more courageous than Severus Snape.

* * *

Snape could not help the vulgarities that spouted from his lips. He dashed gasping from the castle gates, at full sprint towards the lake edge, as fast as the snow about his ankle would allow him.

 _Of all the idiotic-_

He doubled over and slowed his pace, trying to fight his way through the stitch that had just formed. With one glance upwards, he steeled himself back into his lung splitting run, the pain and exhaustion be damned.

For above him shone the full moon, and Lily got it into her fool head it was the perfect night for a stroll.

Snape got the message at eight o'clock that evening, when he had settled into a plush couch the common room with a book, ready for a relaxing night in. After spending a solid two and a half weeks brewing that blasted potion he was glad to finally get his evenings back.

That was when the fourth year Rawkas approached him holding a scroll bound with a red silk ribbon. "A Gryffindor girl named Lily asked me to give this to you," he announced dutifully as he handed the message over.

Snape thanked the boy and sent him on his way, wondering with a scowl what it could possibly say. He felt a squirm of fear that his exercise in avoidance had finally worn down her patience and she decided to reject him indirectly with a written message. It was a selfish sort of worry considering all that he brought down onto her with his needy attention but if there was a place he should be able to indulge self-centred thoughts then it was within the privacy of his own mind.

He had briefly toyed with the idea to discard it without reading, but the idea of such stomach-turning cowardice was not befitting of himself. With a swift stroke he stripped the ribbon from its binding and unfurled the message.

 _Meet me at our spot by the lake at 8 o'clock tonight._ It read.

Without another moment wasted Snape leapt from his seat in panic, sprinting out the castle to stop the fool girl from meeting her precious Marauders in their wild states.

He may have brewed the wolf that exhausting Wolfsbane potion but who knew how his feckless friends had dosed him? As for whether the effects were as miraculous as it claimed, he had never been within viewing distance. For all he knew the results could be greatly exaggerated.

"Lily!" he rasped as he approached the twisted oak. He doubled over to catch his breath, glancing about wildly for sight of his precious foolish girl. "Where- Are- Lily?"

"I'm right here," she answered, stepping out from the shadows under the oak, her sun-kissed hair glinting with an almost rosy warmth under the silvery moonlight. Upon her form she wore a thick muggle-style leather jacket to ward against the cold, but also a long sweeping skirt despite it. It was a strange clash of competing functions, one that seemed to work fashionably on her form. Lily appeared oddly well dressed for a solitary stroll past curfew.

"Get- out of here- dangerous-" he gasped, before he surrendered to his laboured breathing.

Rather than leaping into action, or being cautious of his warning, or even angered by his ordering tone, she grinned an all too silly grin. "Aww but it's so rare I get to be out this late. How about just a quick stroll?"

Snape glared up at her, unable to catch his breath enough to tell her exactly how stupid he found that idea to be.

"Or we can stand right here until you've figured out how to breathe again." she quipped with such cheek.

"I have- breath enough- to tell you this- the- the dumbest idea- you've ever had." he hissed with a rasp.

With a flick of her wand Lily handed him a goblet. "Knew you'd freak out. Here, drink."

Snape scowled mutely and accepted the offered vessel, downing the cool conjured water with a single draw. The moment he emerged from the goblet however, he took Lily by the hand and set off back for the castle.

"You have no idea what danger you've put yourself in." he hissed, his throat still scratchy and raw, but far better than before.

"Hmm. But it really was the most efficient way to get your attention."

Snape glanced back sharply at Lily's sweetly smiling face. "You risked life and limb for attention?" Apparently, the Potter brat's predisposition for seeking attention was not just inherited from his arrogant father.

"It worked, right?" Lily's little streak of deviousness was something he had inconveniently forgotten about.

With a grit of his teeth he stopped in his tracks and swung to face her, this girl who apparently was more gormless, and reckless, and lacking of forethought than he had ever recalled her being. "We are out, on the grounds, past curfew! On a full bloody moon! A sixth year Defence student like you should damned well be aware there are creatures that prowl on nights like this."

Her smile faltered, but fear was not what replaced it. "Didn't think you'd be this scared."

"I'm not scared," Snape growled, "and I'm not joking here Lily. There is a reason why Hogwarts Grounds is out of bounds after dark."

"Oh Sev. The whole castle is out of bounds after dark."

"And you should know this as the Prefect. You of all people should _respect_ this!"

"I do. Just not tonight."

Snape could tear his hair out in frustration. "You would choose tonight of all nights to act like a bloody fool Gryffindor?"

"Why? You still think there's a werewolf on school grounds?" Lily asked, almost too innocently.

 _Of all the._

Snape struggled in that moment, fighting with the desire to berate some sense into her, against the oath he had made to Dumbledore all those years ago. "… Foolish risk to take." was all he managed through gritted teeth.

A gentle smile touched Lily's lips. "You really have changed a lot, Sev."

Snape struggled briefly, feeling his fury trickling away. Damn his foolish heart. Disarmed by a mere smile.

"Just last year you were swearing up and down that Remus was one." she continued, causing Snape to freeze in place. "You'd take every opportunity to out him, with proof or without. It was honestly… quite trying."

She was talking about the young him, the foolish him. The him that was no more. He looked away, knowing too well the boy she was describing was the boy that had lost his way with her. He would give anything for her to forget he was ever like that.

"But, I know he is one." Lily suddenly said, causing Snape to look back with a start. "Remus Lupin is a werewolf."

"What-?" he breathed, but the touch of her cold finger upon his own whisked away any regretful words that might have formed upon his lips.

Snape looked down, confused, finding her fingers entwined within his own. His heart beat loudly in his ears, the reflexive anger he felt with Lily's calm acceptance of the dark beast warring with the shameful flutter of his heart.

With a playful tug Lily brought him to the lake bank, and all he could do was mutely follow. He could not understand her behaviour, and confusion rendered him dysfunctional.

"Look, Sev." she breathed, bringing up their entwined hand. It took him a moment to realise she was pointing, and he slowly brought his eyes about.

Across the half-thawed lake, beyond the moon-touched frost-thin ice, stood a great red stag. Beside the creature shuffled a hulking black dog, its form almost lost among the shadows of the night. The rat, while not visible from this distance was no doubt not far from that eclectic pack. But no shadow could hide the great grey wolf that loomed between them, the wolf that stared solemnly across the lake, unmoving.

Snape felt Lily's fingers tighten around his. Whether it was out of fear or in response to his own tension he could not tell.

"Remus." Lily whispered, her breath misting upon the frigid air.

It was as if her words carried that impossible distance, the great wolf dipped its head, a gesture all too human.

Thank you, he seemed to say.

And with that they vanished into the forest beyond.

Snape felt the tension leave his form, relieved the potion did as it should. Relieved that his abilities had this time spared both him and Lily from a terrible fate.

Her fingers curled, a gentle touch that prompted Snape to swing about. The smile she had held none of the fear he felt. "… I wouldn't have missed that for the world." Lily murmured, her fingers stroking a confusing sensation upon the back of his hand.

With a jerk he separated their hands. "You risked too much!" he hissed. Now that the fear had passed the anger returned full force. "Did you think for a moment what might have happened had that damnable wolf been feral?"

"That would mean you'd have to make a failed potion." Lily answered with a smile, reaching out to take his hand once again, but rather than allow her to thread her fingers through his he cupped them between his warm palms. Lily's eyebrows shot up, giving her smile a hint of exasperation.

Feeling her cold fingers warming, Snape's adrenaline subsided, leaving him along with his ability to meet her eyes. "You convinced me our school motto was designed for a Gryffindor," he grumbled, "Nobody else could be so reckless as to tickle a sleeping dragon."

Her pale skin glowed under the touch of the moonlight, casting shadows about her smooth perfect face. The depth of the evening caused her auburn hair to shimmer a dark ruby red, but not even the darkness could fully mask the green of her eyes.

The memory of his confession intruded upon Snape's mind, bringing with it an unwelcome flush he could do nothing but scowl through. He made to pull away but Lily's hands flew out to catch his, the touch of her now warm fingers prickled his skin where they touched.

"Don't leave, Sev," she muttered, her voice as gentle as her touch, "not before you hear what I have to say."

Fear wormed its way into his gut, on his tongue was already the taste of bitter rejection. Bitterness he had no right to feel. In no lifetime was he blameless for the dangers that had befallen her.

"If… If you feel the need to… answer me. Don't. I get it." He tried to pull away but her fingers gripped tighter, refusing to let him go.

"Sev. Please." she beseeched, her bright green eyes peering up at him in such a way he felt the fight leave him in its entirety. He willed his courage to his heart. _She will not be cruel._ He told himself. He felt her fingers move against the back of his hand, her thumb tracing circles against his palm, the tips starting to cool again.

"What you've done for Remus…" she began, stirring a stroke of annoyance that the thrice cursed Marauders had to be a part of this. "You're amazing, you know that Sev?" He looked at her sharply, dark eyes glinting in the shadow cleft recesses of his sunken sockets. "Not just for Remus. For… your Slytherins, and for everyone in this school." He felt her grip tighten, he wondered if she could feel his quickened pulse under her fingers. "And for me." she murmured.

What was she trying to say? "Tell me straight," he growled, "do not try to soften this."

The smile twitched upon Lily's lips, whether it was a faltering or exasperation he could not tell. She slipped her fingers from his, leaving his warm hands feeling suddenly very empty. "How about you just let me say what I want to say and not ruin the mood with your sunny disposition."

"Why does this need a mood?" he grumbled, averting his eyes.

"Because I'm trying to tell you I like how you've changed!" she exclaimed with exasperation, bringing one hand up to rest gently against his shoulder. "I like the man you've turned into." He could not meet her eyes again. How sweetly she tries to soften this, her kindness burned him like a brand.

She slipped her hand from his shoulder, touching her fingers against his chin. Snape flinched and drew back, his dark eyes widened against the unexpected touch. Lily did not let him retreat, stepping forward, closing the distance, her fingers found his jawline, tracing across the uneven bristles that were beginning to emerge.

"Nobility looks good on you Sev." she murmured, her words not providing any answers to the questions roiling within him. Her hands withdrew suddenly as she stepped back, leaving him feeling suddenly too alone.

"Lily?" he asked, unable to fathom what was happening.

With a smile she took a step backwards, a finger pressed to her lips. Slowly she withdrew her wand and turned it in a wide arcing circle. Snape's eyes widened as she invoked that spell.

"Expecto Patronum."

The brilliant silver light that burst forth from her wand tip, bound across the frosted lake. A small silver doe emerged from within that brightness. A beautiful creature that looked in every way like his own.

With an unsteady hand he reached out to touch the slowly dispersing wisps, feeling the warm glow from within, a glow that felt so very much like his own. The cold of Lily's fingers touched upon his unraised hand. He did not pull away this time when she entwined them with his own.

Numbly he lowered his reaching hand and withdrew his wand, turning it in the same circular motion. "Expecto Patronum." he uttered. Sending his own doe forth across that shimmering icy lake.

Lily's fingers tightened, he could feel her heartbeat against his fingers, or was that perhaps his own?

The two ethereal does circled one another, their movements cautious and curious, like a dance between two creatures of the woodland, rather than the avatars of their hearts.

Snape felt the gentle tug of his hand. He turned to meet Lily's expectant gaze, a hesitant smile upon her lips. He heard his heart beat within his ears, the flutter of the impossible within his soul.

He reached over, trailing his thumb lighting across her cheek, his wand still grasped between those fingers. She did not flinch. She did not pull away.

Slowly he lent in, feeling her breath against his lips, searching her eyes, waiting for that recoil of revulsion. Those green eyes shimmered in the silver of the moonlight, so gentle, and unguarded. And then they closed.

His breath left him, stilled by uncertainty. He could not be sure. How could this be what she wanted?

She did not wait for him to decide. Lily leant in, touching her lips against his own. He felt her fingers grip tight against his, her other hand trailing across his chest, a light touch that sent shivers down his spine.

He pressed his lips lightly against hers, the motion gentle, the kiss chaste. She did not recoil, her fingers played across his collarbones, sliding into the strands of his long hair. He moved his lips, he could taste her sweet breath, mingling with his own. He felt her lips move, stoking the excitement within him.

His caution was no longer in control he reached behind her hair and pressed her against him, taking in as much of her as he could, startling Lily with his eagerness. He felt her grip his hair, a motion reminiscent of hands upon reigns. Unable to think he pressed in once more, and accidentally knocked his unruly teeth against hers.

With a start the hapless young man withdrew, his face flushed with mortification as Lily broke out into a fit of giggles.

* * *

A/N: I'll bet you guys want the next chapter… So, this is what power feels like :D

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 17th November 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 21: To Walk a New Path**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	21. To Walk a New Path

**Chapter 21: To Walk a New Path**

Lily knew there was little chance of avoiding the questions. The moment she pushed the door into her dorm room Susan's scandalised voice pierced the silence, "What were you up to sneaking about at this hour Lily?"

It wasn't like she'd believe any excuse Lily could give so she chose to answer brazenly close to the truth. "Why, snogging Sev under the moonlight of course."

Susan snorted and rolled her eyes. Lily knew she wouldn't believe it. Nobody would.

And that made her all the more nervous to think about.

She'd be lying if she said the entire evening went exactly according to plan. The part about luring Sev out to meet her alone, that worked. There was no way that it wouldn't. Considering how protective he had been towards her just by the threat of the dissenting members of his house, she could imagine how he'd take her foray out into the night of the full moon. She took precautions of course, after roping in James reluctantly she had him promise to do his best to keep Remus away from the lake if it appeared the potion did not work, even try to send up flares if he was able to signal that it wasn't safe. She was glad things worked out well in that respect, she couldn't imagine how much it would kill the mood to have a rampaging werewolf chasing them about.

The rest of the evening however, was where her plans diverged. She had really only planned for the display of her Patronus, and the subsequent confession she hoped she wouldn't need to give. She had counted on Severus understanding the meaning implicitly and spare her fumbling for the right words and the worry of sounding too forward.

After all it was the same as his Patronus, what else could it mean if she could cast it too?

And he did get it. He realised her meaning immediately. Even cast his own Patronus, confirming everything she had suspected about her heart.

That it was a reflection of his.

That their hearts were one and the same.

There was no uncertainty in Lily's heart when she tugged his hand then, forcing him to meet her eyes. She smiled gently, searching his fathomless depth for a smile she hoped would finally emerge. That crooked toothed smile.

That smile never appeared.

Instead she drew in close. Suddenly so close.

Lily hadn't planned for this, but she had never been much of a planner. She would much rather go with her instincts.

And her instincts told her to close her eyes and lean in.

Lily's cheeks warmed with the thought, fighting the smile that threatened to spill over from her memories. That awkward little kiss he planted upon her lips had started off gentle and hesitant, as if he was testing the water for her reaction. A sweet kiss Lily melted into easily, her stomach summersaulting over her fluttering heart. A gentle kiss that turned suddenly passionate. Passionate but clumsy.

"Well I'll be darned. I do believe Lily was halfway truthful!" Marlene exclaimed as Lily failed her battle against her reddening cheeks. With a gasp of horror Lily shut her posters with a sweep of her wand, only to have her friend yank them apart with a devious smirk. "So a snog under the moonlight Lil's?"

Lily glared at Marlene, fighting the traitorous smile that threatened to out her. A sight the sharp eyes of a chaser did not miss. "I'm so right aren't I? C'mon Lil's who's the lucky guy?"

Susan drew to the end of her bed as well, eyes bright and hungry, lured by the scent of scintillating gossip. Even Mary looked up from her muggle novels, her usual distance to this childish display parted with a hint of real curiosity.

Only Pandora remained disinterested in the proceedings, or perhaps she was so engrossed in the mysterious neck-garb trinket turning between her fingers she hadn't noticed all her roommates had gravitated to the opposite side of the room. It had been a birthday present left for her by the House Elves the night before. A present from her own mysterious admirer that drove her into determinations to unmask. Nobody really believed she had any interest in the poor boy beyond the mental stimulation he provided. Even her haughty black cat Achilles peered at it curiously from her warm lap.

"So, spill Lil's." Marlene insisted aggressively, shining her lit wand straight into the poor girl's eyes. That was the last time Mary would be allowed to share her detective novels with the over-eager witch. "Which boy, how long, and mouth or cheek?"

"Honestly Marlene…" Lily muttered with a roll of the eyes, the effect somewhat detracted by the puffing smoke she was certain was emitting from her burning ears.

"Ooooh I do believe the answer is mouth!" Susan squealed, unfathomably delighted.

"Fine!" Lily exclaimed, done with the charade. "I wasn't lying."

The grin could split Marlene's face in two. "Yeah? Which boy though?"

"I mean… I wasn't lying..." Lily trailed off, her eyes cast to the side in a fit of shyness.

"You don't mean…" Marlene breathed, her grin replaced by an expression of wide-eyed horror.

"Yeah." Lily couldn't help the shy smile that bubbled forth.

Suddenly two hands gripped her shoulders so tightly that it hurt. "Lily! What? No!" Marlene shook her back and forth causing her teeth to rattle. "We've been over this! No!"

"What?" Susan asked confused, looking between the two.

Lily shrugged out of her friend's grip. "Yes I know,Marlene. And you would be right, if I didn't actually like him."

"Why would you like him?" Marlene asked aghast. "There's nothing to like about him!"

"Who are you talking about?" Susan almost begged, her eyes darting quickly between the two.

Lily sighed, struggling with an explanation. "Because he's changed." She offered to a dissatisfied Marlene. "I mean really changed. He's become a really good person." She couldn't explain what he had done for Remus without risking outing the poor cursed boy. "I like the man he's become, I really do. Plus, he is my oldest friend so…"

A scandalised gasp emitted from Susan's gossipy maw, "You kissed Severus Snape?"

"Like I said, Susan." Lily muttered, taking every fibre of her patience to hold back the eye roll.

"As in kissed him? On the mouth? Willingly?" Her disbelief was almost insulting.

"Yes." Lily answered defiantly.

Susan's gagging response was definitely insulting. Thankfully Marlene interrupted Lily before she could say something truly mean. "Why would you Lil's? He's not handsome, he's not rich, he's not… not anything!"

"He's very clever though." Pandora's voice lanced through the room, surprising everyone with her interest.

"Yes exactly!" Lily grasped at anything that was offered to her right now. "He's got assets."

Pandora nodded, putting down her book and swung her legs around the side of the bed, dislodging Achilles with her motion. The disgruntled cat darted straight under her neighbouring bed, hissing angrily. "I don't think he's a bad choice. Smart boys are rare."

"Then you date him." Marlene hissed.

"No thanks. He's too ugly." Was Pandora's unintentionally flippant reply.

Lily struggled to contain her utter exasperation and failed. "He's not that ugly!"

"Exactly what part of him is handsome?" Marlene demanded. "And don't give me that 'inner beauty' crap."

"It doesn't matter!" Lily exclaimed with a sweep of her hands. "He's not meant to look good for you anyway!"

"That's at least one point in his favour." her exasperating best girlfriend dryly replied, "He'll never be able to cheat on you. Because who'd he cheat with?"

Mary chose to enter the conversation then, a calm voice of reason that Lily could only be thankful for. "Let Lily choose whomever she wishes. She's a big girl with a good head on her shoulders, and screwed on tighter than at least half the girls at this institution."

"And she used this good head of hers to choose the ugliest, poorest, most ill groomed and least charismatic bastard possible. Slytherin to boot!" Marlene would not let up. "She had the pick of the stables and she chose Severus Snape?!"

Mary turned a questioning eye to Lily. "Oh yeah, didn't you have James Potter after you? What happened with him?"

Lily smiled wickedly at Marlene's sudden squirm of discomfort. If Mary knew this was the button to press she showed no sign. "Well you know. I stepped aside to let everyone else have a go."

"You traded James Potter for Severus Snape?" Susan's disbelief was back, though a lot more genuine.

"Look guys." The hapless redhead beseeched her friends, almost pleading. "I like Severus. I can't really explain why but I just do. Sometimes these things just don't have an explanation, or need one."

"Oh, I think I know why." Mary muttered, with a wink and a smile.

"Really, why?" Susan asked, surprisingly clueless to the suggestive tone that even sent Lily into a blushing fit.

"And that's perfectly alright you know." Mary continued in a far more sobered tone. "You celebrate life however you like girl."

"Mary!" Marlene exclaimed, her cheeks reddening as well.

With a frankly ridiculous level of comfort with the topic Mary waved Marlene away. "Oh pish. Don't go all conservative on me. It's the era of love out there."

"Seriously, what are you on about?" Susan asked, a little miffed she was being left behind again.

"Oh, you know. Severus Snape's other assets." Mary tossed casually, the remark sailing clean above Susan's head yet again.

"Not that much of an asset." Marlene exclaimed. Lily sat back aghast, not quite believing they're actually discussing this.

"Oh I don't know." Mary shrugged, "I'd say it's fair."

"Doesn't make up for an ugly face!"

"Blow out the candle and it honestly wouldn't matter."

"You'd be the authority, wouldn't you?" Marlene snapped unkindly.

"What are we talking about?!" Susan exclaimed loudly, yanking everyone out of their immersive, and to Lily, mortifying conversation.

Pandora then chose then to enter the conversation in her airy helpful way. "The incident by the lake, I think. The time when James Potter hung Snape upside down and-"

"Whoa!" Susan exclaimed, holding her finger up to Pandora's lips in a silencing gesture. "Etiquette lesson. We do not talk about the bits of another girl's guy. Especially not right in front of her!"

Lily hid her face behind her hands, for once feeling thankful Susan had said something.

* * *

Snape knew his day would start like this: forced to suffer from his own good deed. He had been hopeful the day would be blissfully Marauder-free when he entered Ancient Runes that morning and saw that there was no Lupin. Absence was the usual state for the werewolf directly after the full moon. Unfortunately, a side effect of the wolf-taming potion was a faster recovery time. By the time Defence Against the Dark Arts came around the Marauders were already seated, early for once, grinning fecklessly with their ragged and worn, but evidently far more hale than usual post-moon werewolf.

Their eyes turned to Snape when he entered. He hoped they got the message when he turned away sharply, purposefully ignoring them. Lupin however appeared to not have as he struggled from his seat, leaning on Potter for support. "Snape. Can I speak with you?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

It wouldn't have been too much of a stretch to pretend he didn't hear him. Snape strode away, headed purposefully for the back of the classroom. Without any more of a struggle the ragged boy slid back into his seat, the effort of standing up taking whatever he had got left.

Other students began filling in then. "Good morning Snape." Urquart greeted as he settled into his seat beside him, the usual desks filling up with familiar faces.

But there was only one face Snape wanted to see.

When Lily entered he could not stop himself from learning forward, hungrily seeking her attention. Her eyes flickered to the Marauders first, causing Snape to bristle with irritation, that even after all that passed between them, Potter and his cronies would be her first concern. Snape glared glumly as Lily's eyes met those of that ailing werewolf's, a radiant smile shared between them. A smile that remained upon her lips as she finally turned her bright green eyes to Snape.

Lily looked no different when she met his eyes, smiling that happy familiar smile. But rather than evoking a similar state of contentment Snape felt a bubble of alarm, and frankly confusion. Was she not affected by what transpired between them? Did that kiss mean nothing? It certainly seemed the case when Lily settled into her seat and turned her attention away, leaving Snape feeling flustered and irritable, his head swimming with confusing memories and thoughts.

Two nights ago they had kissed. A situation straight out of his wildest imaginations. But no amount of hormone-induced fantasies could prepare him for how wildly stupid he would react.

She had kissed him first, or so he kept telling himself. She had met his lips before he could even reign his mind in enough to decode the situation. And after that he was only in control of his faculties for the grand total of five seconds. He rushed ahead, humiliated himself, and then couldn't even meet her eyes for the duration of the entire walk back to the castle. He spent Sunday hiding and licking his wounds, convinced that if everything that happened on Friday was not actually a dream, then he destroyed his only chance with Lily with his own utter incompetence.

It was with great effort Snape dragged his focus to the front when Professor Leafley called class into session, resolving to settle things face to face with Lily after lessons.

Unfortunately, upon class cessation Lily wasn't the first in line seeking his attention.

"Snape. Got a second?" asked Lupin, leaning heavily against a desk in front, barely stopping himself from collapsing.

Snape scowled as he stowed his books away, keeping an eye on the Gryffindor girls at the front. Thankfully it appeared whatever heated discussion they were having was keeping Lily from slipping away too gracefully.

"What is it, Lupin?" Snape growled, sending a glare to the rest of the Marauders hanging back and watching on with a concerned eye.

"Umm… I kind of wanted a private conversation with you…" Lupin trailed off, casting a sidelong glance to Urquart.

The blond boy shrugged and shouldered his bag. "Your business." He remarked before sauntering off, taking Lester along with him. Mulciber however, hesitated, glaring at the solitary Marauder and back at Snape in an almost questioning way. It hadn't been so long that people had forgotten the bad blood between this band of lions and the solitary snake. With almost reluctance, Snape waved Mulciber away, hating how conciliatory the situation made him look.

"Well, spit it out. I don't have all day." Snape snapped before Mulciber was even out of earshot.

Lupin slowly turned a seat around and eased himself into it so he was facing Snape over his desk. "Well first of all, I have to thank you for what you did for me." Lupin started off in his inherently dishonest way. "And if there is anything I can do for you in return, anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask."

"For one you can keep away from me." Snape could see where this is going, and he felt no inclination to keep this civil.

"If that is what you want then I will. I won't come within five feet of you." Lupin agreed readily. "I will do as you ask. Only…" Here it comes. "I beg of you. Please. Will you keep making that potion for me?"

A nasty sneer came across Snape's face. "Always with the ulterior motives with you isn't it Lupin? Never does any offer of thanks come without."

A flicker of discomfort came over the werewolf's features. "Umm. I do believe this is the first time I've ever thanked you. Not that it should have been! I should have thanked you for saving my hide back in that corridor incident!" he quickly backpedalled, reaffirming to Snape exactly how disingenuous he was.

This boy was the very man Snape remembered. That outwardly polite but surreptitiously mocking half-breed, always hiding his false nature behind his kind words and gentle façade.

"I'll bet you've never given a thought to how difficult a potion it is to brew." Snape said in a dangerously low voice. "It takes eighteen days to brew this potion, two of which is taken almost completely. No error can be tolerated on any of its numerous steps, lest it bring harm to both brewer and imbiber, or if I'm lucky, only the imbiber."

A flicker of desperation passed across Lupin's dishonest face. "But you made no mistakes on the first try! The potion worked perfectly. It was everything you promised. More even!"

"Then is my debt not repaid?"

"There was never any debt." Lupin said with a shake of his head. "We told you we were more than happy to help Lily that time."

"Then all the more repaid it must be." Snape growled with a tone of finality.

Lupin drew back, the fight draining out of the boy's exhausted eyes. "Right. You're right Snape. It really is too much to ask of you." He stood then, his shoulders slumped more than just by exhaustion. "I am very thankful, you know." he offered quietly, "I mean it, Snape. You gave me one moon free of my curse. And I will be forever thankful for it."

The werewolf withdrew then, back to his friends, his limping gait worn with exhaustion and defeat. James Potter stared at Snape with an air of muted disbelief, whilst Sirius Black looked thunderous. Snape would not put it past the boy to curse him while his back was turned regardless of their truce and how thankful his friend purported himself to be. That pudgy little traitor Peter Pettigrew ran up to support his flagging friend, perhaps wasn't as stupid as he seemed. He was the only Marauder that didn't react like Snape owed them something.

But none of this mattered when he met those green eyes, darkened with such devastation.

* * *

It did not take much prompting to lure Severus to a secluded spot, that familiar hidden alcove behind the trick wall on the first floor. The far more difficult part was shaking Marlene off their tail. Her Gryffindor best friend still did not calm herself to the idea of Lily's fondness of Severus, and upon further reflection why should she be? It hadn't been that long since Lily and Sev reconciled from estrangement, a situation that all too easily reminded the girl of all the reasons why her Gryffindor best friend should be so concerned.

Severus had a mean streak and a vicious temper, and a manipulative mind. A bad combination in anybody, and a worse one for your best friend's boyfriend. Not to mention an unmentionably unpleasant past. A brief period of his life to be sure, but one he had participated in willingly and knowingly.

He had been a supporter of Pureblood ideologies and walked the path alongside so many of these dark wizards. A path that lead straight to the persecution of Lily's kind. It was genuinely unbelievable to her how their paths could have diverged so much so rapidly, a startling breakdown of their once fast friendship. She could barely fathom what lead them down that path such that they could no longer see each other as anything but enemies.

But just as suddenly as their friendship fell apart did Severus return, seemingly calmer, kinder and, frankly an all-round better person. Better beyond Lily's wildest dreams. Better than what she had ever believed possible, and better still as she was discovering more and more each day.

That he was able to give up his hatred for the Marauders even long enough to grant Remus one taste of freedom was enough to show her there was a path through even the darkest recesses of his heart.

A hope Lily chose to cling on to.

Because if he really did still take his history with the Marauders so personally that he'd refuse to help Remus any further when he possessed the power to do so then it would not bode well for the kind of man he really was.

The bench that Lily sat on curled about the circular wall such that sitting beside someone caused their knees to touch. She watched her Severus shift on the spot beside her, suddenly losing the ability to sit still. His hair swayed lightly by a breeze that strayed into the draughty castle, the ends puffed up in apparent extra volume. The result of an attempt to groom himself. The thought brought a smile to Lily's lips.

With a slow motion the silent girl brought her hand across the gap between them, finding his twitchy fingers. Severus stilled at her touch, his dark pupils glancing at her sidelong, his expression still clouded with uncertainty.

"I meant what I said." Lily offered softly, coaxing the boy to turn and regard her with those deep dark eyes. "I like who you've become."

His hand turned beneath hers, threading through her fingers. Lily saw his eyes soften around the edges as he turned fully to regard her, his words still silent.

"But-" she began, her words causing him to retract immediately, both physically and emotionally, "-we need to talk about this, Sev." His fingers separated from hers and his eyes turned clouded once more. Lily reached out to cup his cheeks between her palms to stop him from physically turning away. "If we are to be more than friends then we need to talk, Severus." she stated firmly.

The hard lines faded from around Sev's eyes. "Are you telling me we have a path forward?" His voice was almost disbelieving, but his dark eyes glimmered with hope.

"Well, I certainly didn't lure you out for a romantic walk under the moonlight just for fun." Lily quipped, feeling the heat rise with her smile.

Severus' hopeful eyes was touched by a hint of dark doubt. "You actually want this?"

"As opposed to what exactly?"

He did not answer, rather shrugging out of his hands and turning away, a scowl beginning to form upon his brow. "Don't… feel obligated." He muttered, causing Lily's heart to clench. He had spent the last six years of school mocked for everything that he lacked. Before that it had been Petunia, and perhaps others she was not even aware of. How can anyone go through life as he did with their self-worth intact?

But somehow, he still found the courage to confess to her, this boy who always deserved more.

"You are worth more than everyone would have you believe, Sev." Lily took his hand again, giving his fingers a squeeze. "I would not choose you if I didn't believe it."

"Then don't regret it." He growled as he suddenly drew in close, pausing only at the threshold of a kiss. Lily didn't flinch or draw back, returning his dark searching stare with her calm muted gaze. She was startled but struggled to hide it, lest he mistakes it as confirmation of his own misgivings.

He did not press forward, nor did he withdraw. He didn't move. Lily touched her fingers against Severus' cheek, trailing them up through several wayward strands of his long dark hair to rest against his temple. His dark stare eased as she rested her forehead against his, his own hand reached up to brush against her dark red strands.

"But. I still do want to talk Severus." she muttered, certain he felt the tickle of her breath on his lips. Severus withdrew, but not as hastily this time, his dark eyes still fixed upon hers. "I want to talk about what you did for Remus." A shudder went through him as if he struggled to suppress an outburst. "I admire what you did for him, and I want to know if it is possible for you to make it again?"

A scowl played along his lips, his dark eyes flickered away briefly, his blink lasting half a second too long. "It is."

Her heart sped up, the idea that he had the power to alleviate the poor boy's cursed suffering and refusing to do so jarred against her admiring belief of his changed nature, of his great nobility. Invoking the fear that she may have mistaken in her judgement. "Then… Would you?" she asked, hoping for more than just for Remus' sake.

"If you ask it of me then I will." he replied unsmiling, "I will continue to brew it for him until the day he dies."

Lily wondered how much of his reluctance came from the fear he held for the creature within Remus, but at this moment that was not her main concern. "Thank you!" she exclaimed happily, throwing her arms about his thin shoulders and drawing him into a crushing embrace. She could actually feel his ribs sticking into her, even after half a year's worth of Hogwarts eating he still didn't fully recover. "You don't know how much this means to me!" Because how could he?

She felt his hands reach around her back to return her hug, his body rigid with tension, and words she felt remained unsaid.

* * *

Evening had fallen when Lily finally found a spare moment to speak Remus. It wasn't so much because of Severus that she spent the day preoccupied. Indeed, she had really only spent the duration of the break period with him. It wasn't long after separating from their hug did Severus had to leave for Arithmancy, with a parting promise to see her again at Potions tumbling clumsily from his lips.

This was to be their relationship, and she had never seen him as unsure of himself as he was with her now. Though never really bristling with confidence, he was at the very least comfortable with her, back when they had been friends. With time he would be comfortable with her once again, she was certain of it.

After that, Lily's responsibilities took over the rest of the day's spare minutes, having to make arrangements for the upcoming Easter break. The Head Girl Angelica Tills made it abundantly clear she expected all Prefects to attend an after-class meeting, one she would have to apologise for the absence of Remus and take notes on his behalf. No matter how much haler he was looking after this full moon, he was still in no shape to limp about to these matters.

Head Girl Tills was an incredible stickler for even the most minute details and Robert Rowen the Hufflepuff Head Boy never appeared to have anything to say in these matters, seemingly happy to stand aside and let Tills lead. This resulted in long arduous meetings consisting of the most frustratingly trivial matters known to the magical earth, and with nobody able to reign in the madness.

The meeting actually ran for so long Lily arrived late for dinner and only made it in time for a little bit of steak and kidney pie before plates were cleared. All of this should have resulted in a very cranky Gryffindor when she finally ran into Remus but very little could kill her mood today.

"Remus!" Lily exclaimed excitedly, finding him waiting patiently for her by the fireplace, wrapped head to toe in quilt. Though faring much better than his usual post moons, he still would need several days to heal through the muscle pains and joint strain that accompanied transformation. Lily couldn't fathom having to deal this crippling monthly occurrence despite Black's jokes about its parallels with the female condition.

The ill boy smiled a small tired smile. "Ah Lily. I must thank you again for covering for me at one of Angelica's talks."

"Went on for half an hour about the importance of stricter enforcement of the uniform standards on robe length to maintain dignity and decency. I'm not even kidding."

A streak of cheek shone through Remus' tired countenance. "Can't imagine how Snape would react to the accusation of wearing his uniform indecently."

He didn't mean what he said in a cruel way but Lily couldn't help but feel that little protective rise over any jibe at Severus' poverty. It was not something he could help. "Come on Remus that's not funny. You know what it's like to not be able to afford new uniforms."

The smile retracted from the suddenly contrite boy's face. "You're absolutely right Lily. I'm sorry for my thoughtless words."

That was the nice thing about Remus, it didn't take much to make him see the errors of his ways. "Good. Because it's not right to insult the guy who's brewing your potion."

A shudder passed across Lupin while his face stayed adamantly void of hope. "I thought- I mean. He said-"

"He changed his mind." Lily smiled sweetly.

Hope shone in Remus' stormy green eyes but his brows was still creased with concern. "He made it very clear how much of a hassle it would be to brew it monthly. And how dangerous the process is."

The smile slipped off Lily's face in response. She hadn't realised it was dangerous too. She had thought when Remus retreated from Severus' table earlier today with shoulders slumped that it was simply a petty disagreement arising from their history. She assumed the worst without ever pausing to ask for Sev's side of the story.

"Well… I got involved. You're welcome Remus."

"You changed his mind?" Remus asked, a hopeful smile edging from his tired countenance.

Lily returned with a wink and a smile full of cheek. "One of the perks of dating him."

The smile fled from the boy's face. "You're actually dating him?"

"Hadn't James said?" Lily asked with a slightly defensive air.

"Yeah but apart from him we all thought you said what you said to specifically to stop James' advances."

"It may have been at first." Lily admitted, comfortable in the knowledge that Remus would keep what was said between them to himself. "Now it isn't. I genuinely like him."

A small smile touched Remus' lips, a little strained around the edges but Lily appreciated the effort. "Then you do what you wish Lily. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise." He reached out and took her hand, giving it a firm squeeze. "But if you have to get out of that relationship, don't even pause to consider me. Don't you dare."

"Gee, thanks for the encouraging words of support." Lily muttered dryly separating their hands.

"I only want what's best for you," Remus insisted. "I don't like the thought of you feeling trapped. If you really do like him and can convince him to give up much of his time and effort on my behalf then I'm all the more grateful for it. But if ever you feel time with him is up, then don't factor me into a reason to stay."

"I won't even think about you," Lily promised with an eye roll and a smile.

Remus leant back with a careful smile, as closed to satisfied with the situation as he could bear to be. His hand reached out yet again. "Now I do believe you have notes for me."

* * *

"It seems congratulations are in order." Dumbledore quipped lightly the moment Snape settled in his seat.

Scowling darkly Snape growled warningly. "My relationship with Lily is none of your concern." A deep worry gnawed at the thought of the headmaster's interference. "Stay out of my affairs."

"As much as I am delighted for the ground you found with Lily Evans that was not what I was referring to." The headmaster quipped as he gently strained his suspiciously copper red tea, apparently chosen to match the deep crimson red of his garish robes. "I was more congratulating you on finding a new method for transmutation that appears to be both novel and effective." To which Snape acknowledged with a muted nod, while refusing to touch his own cup of miscreation.

In alchemy class earlier that day, Snape had revealed to Flamel his solution to his own transmutation issue. Rather than force himself to practice a method of casting he had long known he had no talent for, Snape utilised his experience in spell creation to come up with a solution. Months of struggling fruitlessly and in the end the final piece of the puzzle was handed to him by Lily of all people.

The afternoon she gifted Slughorn with the transmuting goldfish was the afternoon he realised he was thinking about the problem the wrong way. The spells he needed already existed, he simply had to thread them together.

A Stasis Charm weaved into the Molecular Transfiguration spell was all he needed to do. With the focus stone grasped in his hand, he suspended the spell above the mouth of the cauldron like a net as he proceeded to liquidise the block of lead. Taking care to keep the substance churning, he then poured the lead out onto the table, allowing liquid lead to pour through the spells like a sieve, touching every molecule with the spell along the way.

The result of his demonstration was a lump of copper of almost equivalent molar mass to the lead he had used. A result achieved without ever needing to cast from his left hand. A result that had pleased the six-century-old alchemist to no ends.

"Over a thousand years this craft has persisted, yet not once had anyone thought to try to find a solution as you have." Dumbledore continued, smiling with genuine admiration.

"It is simply what happens when you have too many masters institutionalising a craft." Snape replied easily. "Nobody with the proper knowledge tries to find a solution for a problem they don't have. While those unable to master the skill are deemed untalented."

"While you have a good grasp on the theory, experience in spell creation, and a lack of talent for traditional methods. A perfect combination for creative solutions." Dumbledore could not be more unintentionally insulting with his assessment if he tried.

"Sometimes it takes the inspiration of the mundane to usurp the brilliant." Snape muttered scathingly in reply.

With a twinkle in his eye and a quick sip of his tea the headmaster changed the topic. "I would also like to congratulate you on the successful application of the Wolfsbane. I imagine Mr Lupin too was quite pleased with the results."

"It would be petty of him to complain." Snape sneered, but unable to put the level of vehemence he hoped for. Treating Lupin's condition after all was the entire reason he was able to catch Lily's eye, and if his continued treatment was what was needed to keep her then he was more than willing to do so.

A sliver of disgust touched his conscience at the idea of holding her hostage to her kind heart. That would be acting far less than he owed her.

Snape quickly looked away lest his emotions weaken his mind walls and let the prying headmaster a glimpse of his turmoil. No doubt he'd say something exasperating about the power of love, or perhaps worse, remind him about how inappropriate it was for a professor to be dating a student.

And unfortunately, with that thought Snape had managed to remind himself all too well of that fact all on his own.

"I will still need the Laboratory and access to the school ingredients stores." Snape announced hurriedly, attempting to switch his thoughts into less dangerous territory.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled over his half-moon glasses. "I am certainly pleased to see you have decided to continue to treat Mr Lupin despite your adamance that it was to be a one-off kindness."

"Don't make me change my mind," Snape growled, his threat lessened with the knowledge that there was nothing that the headmaster might say that could actually change his mind.

However, knowing Dumbledore's enigmatic mind he already knew what was to be the case, or at least suspected. He was certainly was not treating Snape's threat with the dignity it deserved. "I cannot think of anything that could mark your heart as free from darkness as your deeds as of now. Truly Lily's love is your guiding light."

"Enough!" Snape flicked his hand about him as if warding away these galling compliments. "I do not do this for the benefit of that werewolf!"

"And perhaps you should. Seeing how much displays of kindness benefits Lily's perception of you."

The scowling man turned away, Dumbledore's words confirming his suspicions that the headmaster already knew of his twisted thoughts. Knew, and did not discourage him from his course. "I will not be manipulating her with displays of falseness," he muttered, "and do not intrude upon my affairs."

"Why of course Severus. You appear to have given this your attention with much thoughtfulness. I will not involve myself," the headmaster offered with surprising restraint, lifting his teacup to his lips once more with an air of nonchalance.

Snape had expected of Albus Dumbledore to have a fiercer opinion of his foray into love. A warning perhaps of the folly of the heart, or even the risks of getting Lily involved. Perhaps even chastise him for losing sight of the bigger picture. But then that would be too direct an approach for such a manipulative old man.

"Instead I would like to turn your attention to the war." The headmaster placed his cup and saucer down onto the desk with an air of seriousness, causing the dark thoughts within the younger man's mind to swirl about dangerously. "According to your memories Voldemort and his Death Eaters will be stepping up their activities soon, as will their atrocities."

With a slow blink Snape tucked his private thoughts into the recesses of his mind and settled himself for the task at hand. "Will you be acting?"

With a slow shake of his head Dumbledore confirmed Snape's darkest beliefs in the man. "I am afraid I take cannot take actions so brazenly, and so frequently, lest it compromises our advantage of surprise and foresight."

"Acting for the Greater Good?" Snape scathed, unable to stop himself from rubbing the sainted wizard's nose in his own sordid past.

A frown touched upon Dumbledore's bushy brow. "Do you believe me callous to prioritise the keeping of our foreknowledge secret over the lives that might be saved with its liberal use?"

Snape averted his eyes. He would be the first to understand the value of information, and the importance of sacrifice on behalf of subterfuge.

"Knowledge is our greatest weapon, and a weapon too easily compromised by thoughtless action." Dumbledore continued, "Though no life should be spent frivolously, the only way I can see that ensures the best outcome for all, is to bring about a speedy end to this war."

"Yet with all our knowledge we have made next to no progress upon our mission against these Horcruxes." Snape returned.

A twinkle appeared in Dumbledore's blue eyes, breaking from his serious countenance. "I wouldn't say _no_ progress." And with that he procured from his desk the twisted form of a golden cup.

"Is that-?"

"The cup of Helga Hufflepuff, yes." Dumbledore answered with a solemn sadness. "A tragic waste of history, but something that cannot be avoided."

Snape reached forward to touch the twisted metal, feeling the darkness that permeated the twisted vessel. "Fiendfyre. So you have mastered that dark spell for this purpose," he acknowledged with a sharp glance to the headmaster. "What of the ring? Have you dealt with that too?"

With a quick shake of his head Dumbledore replied almost too lightly. "If by the time we have uncovered all the other Horcruxes we have not yet found another method of destruction then I shall dispose of it with Fiendfyre. For now I wish to keep it in hopes of preserving it intact."

"Why?" Snape demanded, memories of how desperately he fought to contain the necrotic curse struggled to the surface of his mind. He could not fathom the reason why the supposedly wise man would risk such a thing. "You have a method to destroy the accursed object! Why would you wait?"

Dumbledore acknowledged the younger man's concerns with a slow nod. "I understand this is the object that lead to my demise in your previous life, and I thank you for the forewarning that saved me in this one." Propping his fingers together under his chin in a gesture of patience he continued. "But understand this, the ring would never have tempted me had it not been for my own deficiency. There is something I wish to gain from it, and I do not believe I can rest easily without it. You can understand that can't you, Severus?"

"Fine." Snape sat back, not entirely satisfied with the situation but relented to let Dumbledore have it his way. "It is not like we're any closer to the other three in any case. We don't even know what the third object we are hunting are, and of the ones we do know we know not of their location."

"Oh I know where the locket is." Dumbledore replied, sending another lance of annoyance through Snape. He was becoming convinced the old man was not taking this nearly as seriously as he ought.

"Then why have you not claimed it as you have the ring and the cup?" Snape demanded.

In a quiet voice Dumbledore answered, "Because that had been the last task of my previous life." Snape fought the urge to flinch in his seat. He could never forget the night his hand was forced into that murder. Forced by the very man he murdered. "It was a task was far more arduous than I could have ever prepared for. It left me weakened, and I have no knowledge of how long that weakness was designed to last. Even with the foresight you gifted me, I do not believe it wise to attempt it without my affairs in order. This is why I choose to leave it until last."

With a slow nod Snape relented, he would not argue with the wisdom of patience and caution. "Then we must find a way to locate the other two first. We know of the diary, but have no notion of what the last piece even is."

A small smile peaked through the headmaster's white beard. "Oh do try harder Severus. Three young Gryffindors were able to figure that one out."

Snape bristled at that insult. "And they were given knowledge I hadn't been!"

"They were given all the knowledge you have been given this time around." The headmaster continued lightly, not at all seeming inclined to take mercy on the irritated once-professor.

"A grand magical artefact I'm sure," Snape growled, unable to keep the irritated sarcasm from his voice. "Because there are so few of those in rich pureblood families."

"Do you think the histories of all those artefacts would be equally appealing to an egotistical man like Tom?"

Immediately Snape's temper waned as he mentally kicked himself for being slow. Those items he had chosen as Horcruxes were not chosen at random. "A founder's artefact. Such as an item belonging to Godric Gryffindor."

"Or Rowena Ravenclaw." Dumbledore finished with an approving smile. "Our mysterious last item is not so mysterious after all. And since we know the Sword of Godric Gryffindor never made it into Tom's possession."

"Then it's likely an artefact belonging to Ravenclaw," Snape concluded, his scowl more for himself than for the man riddling him. "And the best method for finding the artefact is through questioning Helena Ravenclaw, The Grey Lady."

"Knowing the privileges that comes with the headmaster's position, you would agree that it is a task suited to me?" Dumbledore asked with a twinkle of his eye, causing Snape scowl with intense displeasure. He hated every reminder of how he had once stepped into that roll. A roll he never asked for. A roll that brought his life nothing but difficulty.

"The denizens of this castles will be more cooperative with you, I'm sure," the once-usurper scathed with as much vehemence as he could manage.

The headmaster's smile lessened as he appeared to take pity on his counterpart. "There is one thing however, that I believe only you can do." Snape's scowl lessened as he leaned in slightly, his own way to bade continue. "Basilisk venom. How difficult is it to procure?"

"Considering a living beast has not been sighted in Britain in four centuries I'd say it is quite difficult." The potion master answered flippantly, not even bothering to keep the sarcasm from his voice.

"Yet we must get a hold of the substance."

"I'll just brew some, shall I?"

"No. Not brew." That twinkle appeared in Dumbledore's eye once again, one of unspoken amusement. One that should have caused irritation in the younger man, but all he could feel at the moment was disbelief.

"You want me to transmute it?"

The incredulity in his voice did not appear to sway the Headmaster in the slightest. "You are being trained as an alchemist are you not?" Though his words were of a question but his voice sounded a statement.

"Being t _rained_ , being the key words!" Snape snapped. "You are the master alchemist not me."

"And I am unable to do it as I have never had the privilege of working with the substance." Dumbledore returned calmly, "And seeing that the first sighting of a Basilisk in four centuries happened right in the school you were a Potions Master at, am I wrong to assume that a sample of the venom must have passed through your hands?"

With a dark scowl Snape answered. "You are not wrong." After the perplexing demise of the great beast at the hands of a twelve year old, a small sample of the venom had been salvaged from the pages of a ruined diary by the Albus Dumbledore of that time. The venom had been passed on to Snape with the expressed orders to understand its properties, an order that made far more sense in hindsight, with the knowledge of the enigmatic man's hunt for a solution to Horcruxes.

"Then I leave this to you Severus." Dumbledore said with some finality. "I am certain you are up to the task. Or will be quite soon." That irritating spark of unspoken knowledge twinkled in his eye again, one that made Snape wish the headmaster fancied himself less of a riddle master.

* * *

A/N: Yeesh. Girls can be so mean.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 1st December 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 22: Appreciation of Effort**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	22. Appreciation of Effort

**Chapter 22: Appreciation of Effort**

Though officially winter had ended with the passing of February, the Scottish highland had not yet gotten that message. While the temperature had been behaving for the most part, a sudden cold snap passed through over the weekend. The last Hogsmeade trip before the Easter Break was plagued with blizzard conditions, resulting in almost no student patrons save the still excited third years. Even Marlene, who usually came just so her best friend had company, had to duck out. The Inter-House cup match against Hufflepuff was just around the corner and the Quidditch team did not waste a single weekend out of practice. And after all the excitement at the Apparition exam centre earlier that morning, Lily was not surprised the rest of her sixth year cohorts chose to stay at the castle and revel in a far more restful manner.

Lily found herself sheltering in The Three Broomsticks for much of her patrol, bored out of her skull by the lack of stimulation or company. Severus had yet again refused to come into the village and she didn't push the subject. But she was not about to let him off the hook however, when she returned.

Upon stepping through the front doors to the Entrance Hall and dusting off her muggle snow jacket Lily sent a Patronus down the dungeon corridor. Severus had since taught her an amazing trick to utilise the spell as a beautiful message carrier, also requesting that she keep the methodology a secret. No matter how much he'd changed, he remained secretive with his amazing creations.

Within minutes of sending out the message, before the trails had even fully dispersed into the frigid air, Severus came striding up the darkened hallway, a strange haste about his person. He smiled his small twitchy smile that touched his eyes far more than his thin lips.

She was certain he was happy to see her but instead of a greeting the first words from his mouth were. "I only have minutes Lily," he paused then and grimaced, as if he realised he had committed a faux pas.

"What's the hurry, my good Slytherin?" Lily asked grinning, a socially awkward Severus was a familiar Severus. "Left the kettle on?"

Sev appeared to relax then, realising she hadn't taken any offence to his brusqueness. "Cauldron actually. I have a potion brewing."

"Then I guess we should take this to your lab. I would be a poor girlfriend to keep you from your work," Lily remarked as she took hold of his hand.

A smile edged along his thin lips briefly before suddenly he turned away, scowling into his robe front. His ears, neck and cheeks coloured distinctly as he appeared to shirk away from the sudden mutterings and stares that arose from other students utilising this thoroughfare.

"What's got you in knots?" Lily asked slightly vexed. It seemed a ridiculous thought that he might be embarrassed to be seen in public with her. Surely after all that's passed he wasn't still conscious of that pureblood nonsense.

But just as those prickly thoughts passed her mind did she realised that some of those watchers were laughing and pointing, that some of those stares bore from distinctly disbelieving faces. It wasn't distaste in being seen with her, it was self-consciousness of judgement and ridicule.

"Come on. Don't listen to them," she urged with an insistent tug of his hand. Severus smiled weakly as he met her eyes, she could see his conscious effort to not turn away. The confidence he had found with his new lease on life fled in the face of challenges to his self-worth.

It would simply not do. With a sharp lean in Lily pecked him on the cheek with a boldness that surprised even herself, let alone him, or any of those slack jawed starers. The muttering certainly died for that split second before it returned again twice fold, but by then Lily had already tugged Severus down the darkened hallway. "That'll give them something to talk about," she grumbled, fighting her own self-conscious blush.

"You honestly don't have any problem being seen in public with me?" Severus rasped in a voice that just broke Lily's heart.

"No," she insisted stubbornly, "everyone can just get used to it."

Lily continued to march down the darkened dungeon path, slowing her steps only when she realised she had no idea where she was going. Severus thankfully stepped in front without any prompting, leading her deftly through his domain.

Though it had been almost a month since her assault in these corridors, Lily could not help but feel the press of caution upon her while she tread this path. Severus led her deeper down past the Potions Classroom, towards the private laboratories.

Severus used to haunt those labs whenever he was given permission to use them; enamoured with his experimentations in the craft. Lily had visited him down here on some of those off occasions to watch him in his element, an activity she had enjoyed greatly, before the dungeon corridors became a vastly unwelcoming place for people like her.

They stopped before a solid oak door, Severus hurrying forward to hold it open. With a smile Lily stepped through, only realising as she entered that she had visited this very lab in the past.

"You're brewing the Wolfsbane!" she exclaimed excitedly. She noted that personal touches had been added since her last visit. A row of musty gold-lined runic tomes now sat on the shelf in the corner, overlooking a medium sized round table covered in deep gouged carvings. Upon that table sat stones and vials scattered in various states of use.

"As per your request yes," Severus confirmed as he conjured a chair for Lily to sit on, even though there were perfectly adequate stools about the room.

"Oh don't be coy, I know you don't hate being seen as the good guy," Lily teased with a wide smile as she settled into the chair, noting immediately the crisp plush quality of the seat. "But how come you're starting now? I thought you had said it took just over two weeks to brew? The last full moon was only a week ago."

Severus confirmed with a brusque nod as he strode over to his table, the large cauldron bubbling away upon its holder. "Eighteen days if following a relaxed schedule." He specified, the pedantic guy that he was. "But unless I choose to skip classes I only have the weekends to brew. And since April's full moon is on a Monday I do not have the luxury of waiting for a closer weekend."

Lily watched him with keen eyes as he removed the lid over the bubbling cauldron, and immediately gagged at the putrid smell that wafted forth. "Urgh. Oh. No," she gasped with her hands pressed in futility over her mouth and nose.

Severus however appeared unfazed as he produced a small dish of some sort of paste and smeared it over the back of his ladle, dipping the instrument into the pot in that careful stroking turn that Lily recognised as a technique to disperse minced ingredients in a slow and controlled manner. Immediately the yellow putrid steam being given off turned a startling lavender, with the cloying smell edging away from putrid to merely stomach turning.

"How can you stand it?" Lily gasped, watching Severus' calm disposition with something akin to envy.

"I got used to it." A smirk touched Severus' features, turning his answer into a gloat. "I have been brewing since morning."

With an elegant motion he withdrew the ladle and tapped it to the rim, dislodging the remaining droplets of the potion. He laid the instrument down onto its draining holder with swift precision and produced his wand to quickly adjust the flames. "This potion requires extremely precise control of temperature, stirring motion and ingredient dispersion. Not one factor can be out of place lest the results become deadly."

There it was, confident Severus. The one place where he wasn't blushing, or awkward, or unable to speak. He was right there in his element, surrounded by the noxious gasses of a ridiculously complex potion.

Lily fought to keep her smile from tinting her words lest it be taken as mockery. "How does Albus Dumbledore figure that a student would be able to handle a potion like this?"

He looked up from his stirring, his hands still following those precise strokes despite his shift in attention. "I assume it is because I am the best in our Potions class, and I have proven my ability with dangerous materials as a student of the alchemical arts," he answered with a cool, almost dismissive tone.

"Well he thought right," Lily grinned, so proud of her Severus.

With another ringing tap the potioneer withdrew his ladle again and adjusted the flames, this time cupping the lid over the top. "It has to come to the boil and be allowed to simmer for precisely five minutes, no more and no less." He flicked out the silver pocket watch Lily had bought him, bringing a smile to her face.

With a flick of the wand he cleared the air, the gagging smell immediately fled from the room. Lily wondered if any of the odour still clung onto her hair and clothes but shirked at how unrefined she'd look sniffing at herself. But then again Severus never minded when she acted out a little. Did the rules change when they were dating?

Severus, however, answered her question unintentionally by bringing the strands of his own long hair to his nose in a not so subtle self-assessment. Lily took it as a cue to do the same.

"Thank goodness the smell doesn't cling," Lily remarked as she stood from her seat to approach, Severus' black eyes boring into her. She turned her eyes away to sweep across the desk, taking in all the instruments and materials he had neatly arranged on his bench ready for access and use.

"Where's the recipe?" Lily asked, scanning the desk for parchment. Strangely, for such a complex potion he did not appear to have the written instructions displayed. "Don't tell me you've memorised it?"

"I have memorised it," Severus answered without a hint of smugness.

Lily felt that swell of pride for her best friend that was always followed by that little hint of jealousy. Nobody could argue that Severus Snape had a mind as sharp as his silver blade, and a creativity that would put many an artist to shame. As much natural talent as Lily possessed with her magic, she would often times find herself wishing for the sharpness of Severus' unnatural mind instead, especially when academic performance was called on far more often than practical display during scoring.

"Do you think it's possible to teach me?"

He almost seemed to hesitate, a small furrow of his brow bespoke a storm of turmoil beneath, before his features suddenly cleared and with a smile and a single nod of the head Severus replied, "If you can stand the smell then it will be my pleasure."

"I don't suppose you can get me a copy of the potion before the Easter Break begins?"

Severus appeared to startle, "Easter break?"

Lily rolled her eyes, it appears even with his exceptional memory and brainpower he was still able to somehow forget about upcoming holidays, despite having five years of experience with the concept. "You know. That one week break in April between now and our last scramble for exams. It starts less than a week after the end of the full moon next month."

"Right," he mumbled, his dark eyes darting about the room, his rising level of discomfort almost tangible.

"What's wrong?" Lily enquired with a hand upon his arm, she could feel the coarse frayed material upon his too short sleeves of his robes. He had grown again, Lily noticed, he stood nearly a good foot taller than her now.

With a shake of his head Severus turned away, a scowl poised just beneath his collected continence. Lily wasn't fooled by his calm disposition. No matter how much he seemed to have changed, he still required a lot of prodding to divulge what was actually bothering him.

"Let's say I pretend I believe you. Just like the last time something bothered you last year. Things didn't exactly go well." She actually meant her words more as light hearted teasing, but to Severus it seemed it was anything but.

He seemed to have actually taken it as a threat. "I'm just- It's just…" he scowled as he shrunk on the spot, struggling with his words, "I don't… want you to leave." He glowed red upon his admission, his face a mixture of mortification and misgiving.

It broke Lily's heart, and truly put into context how ill thought out her casual teasing remark had been. "It's just going to be for a week Sev. It's not going to be six months this time," she promised, wondering why she appeared to be making things worse.

That scowl that had been threatening spilt forth upon his face. Anguish and shame warred upon his features, along with an unnamed darkness that marked his eyes in a way that almost frightened her. Very strong emotions, too strong for a simple possessive streak.

"Hey. Come on," Lily beckoned softly, reaching out and laying her fingers upon his cheek lightly. His emotions stilled at her touch, the darkness fled his eyes but the anguish remained. "I fought very hard to make you mine. A week won't change my mind."

A smile touched his lips as a hoarse grumble sounded in his throat. She supposed that was what passed for laughter in the world of this new Sev.

"You're really making me work for every smile I get," Lily groused good-naturedly, trailing her fingers down to his smooth chin. She could feel his thin skin stretched taught over his jaw, even after almost a year at Hogwarts he was still undernourished. Or perhaps he had been eating enough but everything was going into his height and not his frame. He shot up by at least a good inch or two since they reconciled. She remembered a time when she stood taller than her best friend and it hadn't been that long ago.

Lily felt a light touch upon her waist. Severus watched her carefully, drawing in close, his dark eyes staring with dark intensity. Her smile faltered as her skin prickled, she could feel his breath on her skin. Her hand slid from his chin to the back of his neck, her fingers trailing through his thick long hair spilling across his shoulders. With a nervous smile Lily closed her eyes, awaiting that promised kiss.

But it never came.

Instead she found herself being thrown suddenly to the floor, landing not so gracefully upon the stone tiles. Before she could get her bearings, Severus bore down upon her, sending her into a confused panic, especially when he landed bodily on top of her.

"Head down!" he roared and his hand grasped her by the crown of her head and pushed her flat against the ground, just as an explosion tore overhead, rattling the instruments from shelf-lined walls.

Lily lay there blinking and dazed as Severus sluggishly rolled off her, his cloak covered by a thin film of putrid purple goop. He pulled himself to his feet, his eyes scanning the room with a crestfallen scowl plastered across his face.

"What happened?" Lily gasped as she struggled to an upright position.

Colour ran up his neck, the sort of embarrassment that bespoke of humiliation. "… I wasn't watching the time," was all he managed through his clenched crooked teeth.

* * *

It was not an easy Monday morning for Severus Snape. Exhaustion dogged his every step as he dragged himself, twenty minutes late, to Defence against the Dark Arts.

He was hoping to not draw attention to himself when he pushed open the door but immediately Professor Leafley set upon him. "You're late Mr Snape! And not fashionably so either!"

"I have no excuse," he ground through gritted teeth.

The usually quite affable witch appeared not in a merciful mood this morning. "At least in this we're in agreement. Five points from Slytherin for tardiness."

Snape glowered as he made his way through to the back of the class, challenging those snarky looks he was getting with a glare. Lily met his eyes apologetically from the front seat, appearing to shrink into her seat as he passed. He tried to reassure her with a small smile but he couldn't tell if it came out right through his haze of exhaustion.

The usually plucky Gryffindor girl had been mortified after the accident in the Wolfsbane lab. Just four seconds over five minute mark was all it took for the exacting potion to be rendered unusable, half a minute after that and it becomes chemically unstable. The result was an hours' worth of clean up and another hour of reassuring the aggressively weeping Lily that it was not all her fault.

Reassurance rendered not entirely in platitude. The fault had been his own. For sixteen years he taught as Potions Master at Hogwarts. He knew the rules of the laboratory like second nature, having set them himself. This time it was he who disregarded those rules in pursuit of his own pleasures and reaped the consequences because of it.

After that it was back to the beginning, restarting ten hours of work and adjusting his day-night cycles to accommodate this. It all caught up with him this Monday morning when he was forced to drag himself to class after a grand total of four hours sleep over two days. Though as an adult this type of sleep deprivation was honestly not that much different from the norm, it was far more common to find himself mired in insomnia. The bottle of Dreamless Sleep became a part of normality. Despite the relief that came with ease of slumber, he was finding this young growing body he now inhibited was terribly high maintenance. But the nightmares never left him, it was now a roll of the die whether or not he would be visited by the spectres of his guilt.

Ancient Runes was a bust, he could barely find his face at the time, let alone his way up to the sixth floor. It was with great difficulty that he had even been able to drag himself all the way up to the third floor to attend Defence class.

"You look like crap. More than usual," Urquart observed with his usual level of tact.

"Shut up," Snape barely managed before he collapsed into his seat, unable to care enough to unpack his bag. With bleary eyes he turned his attention to the front, barely able to register more than Dementors being the topic of today's lesson. There were some unpleasant connotations associated with that but he could not gather his wits enough to dwell on it.

"What happened to you?" Lester asked, his concern possibly real.

"Probably his girlfriend," Urquart answered with a roll of his eyes.

The confusion cleared up in Lester's eyes. "Oh. Congratulations."

"Had that much fun huh?" Mulciber grumbled.

Snape couldn't find the energy to even react more than a lethargic grumbling scowl.

"-Defensive charm against these foul dark creatures. I'm sure you all remember the Patronus Charm from February."

 _Oh no._ The groan passed sluggishly through his mind. Snape laid his head against the table and closed his eyes. Perhaps if he pretended to be asleep nobody would call him into attention.

"Ms Evans. I remember you possessed a remarkable talent in the area. Can I interest you in yet another demonstration?"

"Certainly Professor Leafley!" answered Lily's bright and bubbly voice. It was good to hear after what happened that there was no lasting damage to her morale.

With a quick incantation, a collective gasp rose from the crowd. Snape knew what he would see without even cracking his eyelid. Lily's Patronus, the silver doe, cantering about above their heads, in every way identical to his own.

It stroke a warmth within him, knowing she had found that creature upon memories of him. A strange contentment that had no equal within two lifetimes. Even after all the humiliation he wrought to himself, Lily still stuck fast beside him. Even after all the awkwardness he could not shake, the mistakes he could not help but foolishly fall into, she did not leave his side.

She stuck with him long after curfew, cleaning after his wretched mess. Just half a second's worth of distraction was enough to send Severus' lab and reputation into disarray. But not for a moment did Lily seemed swayed. Sticking by him through dinner to help him clean up his mess. Swearing up and down to never distract him in his lab again.

Perhaps his life could be different. Perhaps he could finally live for himself.

Perhaps his penance was finally over.

Perhaps he was finally allowed to be happy…

* * *

Lily winced as another five points was docked from Slytherin when Severus was caught napping by the usually fair tempered Professor Leafley. With head bowed low she debated whether or not to distract the Professor with a question. The professor seemed to like Lily, as most professors do.

Her dilemma was mercifully resolved with the announcement of class end.

"Phew… Piss-y," Marlene muttered under her breath. She took a penalty for Gryffindor during the course of class for daydreaming. "Dunno what's happened but the Professor's real moody today." She muttered, eyeing Leafley cautiously.

"Probably fighting her monthly demon," Black cracked from across the way, luckily not loud enough to draw attention.

"Dare you to say it to her face," Lily shot back.

He snorted in reply, "Not that stupid."

"Trouble at home I'll bet," Peter whispered in a conspiratorial voice. "She's one of those Professors that live off-grounds."

"Didn't know professors did that," Marlene whispered back with genuine interest. Lily was beginning to realise her best friend may be on equal gossiping grounds with Susan.

Dorcas Meadows pitched in from her seat by the window, "What do you think Professors do if they're married?"

Marlene grimaced, "I didn't know Professors got married."

"Well it is about time something started happening to the Professor," James muttered darkly.

Everyone fell silent, the shadow of the unnamed but ever-present jinx hung above the class. No teacher had ever lasted a year within this role, often befallen by some tragedy or another before their term was up. By their sixth year everyone had learned to be a little sensitive around this time, knowing the end for the Professor was nigh.

The Gryffindors averted their gaze as Professor Leafley stepped by to gather up her things. The front desks at which they sat was not an ideal location to continue discussions. With a subtle nod James indicated the door. Lily packed her items and hesitated to leave, glancing back at the flagging Severus who hadn't yet gathered himself enough to even realise the class was vacated.

A twinge of guilt flared within Lily. After all, it was her fault he was in this state.

"You guys go on ahead. I'll catch up," Lily remarked before floating towards the back of the class. The other Slytherins had already left, it appeared even with Sev's newfound popularity among his peers, his welfare still ranked low on their list of interest.

Marlene glanced up at her with an almost disapproving look. There was no warming her to Severus, she refused to hear anything good Lily had to say about him and she refused any offers to meet him face to face. The latter was probably for the best, however. No matter how much for the better Severus had changed, he still suffered from the inability to represent himself in the best light.

"How are you feeling, Sev?" Lily asked gently to the flagging boy. He was actually trying to pack his textbook in sideways into his slowly deteriorating bag.

He looked up with a small bleary smile, the easiest one she received from him thus far. A small elation bubbled within her, a minor victory was still progress. "I'll live," he answered, his book still held sideways.

Lily reached over and helped him straighten his load. With a grateful nod he tied the flap down on his bag, the latch had long since stopped working. "Perhaps you should take the rest of the day off," the concerned girl suggested, her guilty conscience screaming in her ears.

"I certainly can't miss Arithmancy," Severus grumbled. "I have nobody to help me hand in my work or take down next week's homework topic for me."

"Remus can do it," Lily suggested.

She knew he would decline even before the scowl of distaste passed his features. "I think I'd rather simply attend. I'll take a fifteen minute nap before class starts however."

"Don't overdo it," Lily muttered, still feeling contrite by her own actions that lead to this. "I won't forgive you if you faint into that putrid gunk and drown."

Severus returned her a pale smile. As he struggled to his feet and prepared to leave, he paused mid-step, as if exhaustedly struggling with something. His eyes flickered to her, then to the door, and Lily realised her friends had waited up for her after all. Six pair of Gryffindor eyes stared from the front, or really five pairs. Pandora was only watching to fit in with her peers.

"Well… I'll see you in Potions," he mumbled, stepping past her, suddenly unable to meet her eyes. It was only as he walked past her semi-hostile friends and slipped out of the room did Lily realise Severus had wanted to kiss her. She felt a little guilty at the relief she felt over his choice not to do so in front of her friends. Not that she was embarrassed by him, rather she didn't feel like having to deal with the judgement from Marlene, or the repercussions of when it makes it back to Susan later.

"He's certainly seen better days," James muttered as Lily drew in close.

"Not that you can tell with how goony he looks," Marlene added unkindly.

"Sure you can," Pandora remarked, taking the comment literally and not in the spirit in which it was intended.

Lily shouldered her backpack with a harrumph. "He's doing so much good, and all you can do is make fun of his looks?"

"All he's done is make sure a few little snakes aren't lonely," Marlene muttered with a roll of her eyes. "And apparently that little break from shittyness is enough for you to snog him."

Lily almost wished Sev had just kissed her then, if only to make a point to her best friend.

"He's doing more good than just for Slytherin," James unexpectedly spoke up. Remus gave a small hesitant smile of agreement, as close to the truth he could dare to approach.

Lily feared Marlene would contend that statement but she unexpectedly accepted it on face value. "Really? I mean. If you say so…" She muttered in a sudden show of coyness. James grinned his brilliant white full-teethed smile eliciting a similar response from the blond girl. It seems her battle to win James over was succeeding, and if Lily's Gryffindor best friend didn't want to endure merciless teasing on this front she'd best behave about Sev.

"What's wrong with him today though?" James asked suddenly, turning his attention to Lily. "I mean he doesn't usually look healthy but he's falling apart at the seams today. Not more trouble from his seventh-year's I hope?" A sudden elbow into his ribs caused his eyes to widen and him to clam up and glance nervously between the girls.

"We're fine," Marlene muttered with a hint of annoyance. She spent a good part of the month insisting she was recovered, and for all intents and purposes, she had.

"And it's honestly my fault," Lily muttered. "He was brewing a complex potion and I… wound up accidentally distracting him and basically blew him up. This is what it looks like when he has to play catch up."

Remus looked questioningly at her to which Lily returned with a slight nod, confirming that it is what he think it is. A small grateful smile passed through the cursed boy's features, a flash of the euphoric anticipation for another month's relief. She felt the warmth bubble within her, a shared joy with her pitiable friend, and relief her own mistake hadn't cost him his catharsis.

And with almost alarming precision Black ruined the moment by cutting in, "You caused Snivellus to blow up? Must have been quite the distraction."

"It took mere seconds!" Lily exclaimed, trying to justify her role in the accident.

"Well none of us really expected him to last long," he replied coolly, smirk edging under his smooth handsome face.

It took a moment for Lily to realise exactly what he was implying, and as too did her friends from their looks of mutual disgust. With a grimace of annoyance Lily sighed, she could always count on Sirius Black to be oh so generous with his vulgarity.

* * *

The weeks trickled away and the potion finally entered its stable phase. Severus Snape's time in his laboratory was now solely spent on solving the alchemical problem Albus Dumbledore had given him. Albeit indirectly.

He had an alchemical table moved down into his potioneering lab so that he could conduct practice while waiting between extended brewing periods. He could not bear the thought of wasting more precious time on that ridiculous time-intensive potion. Thankfully this was not a day where he had to worry about the brew, time he could spend focused wholly on this exceedingly difficult subject.

His Thursday Alchemy class curriculum hadn't changed to reflect this. Professor Flamel had made it exceedingly clear that biological transmutations was an exceedingly complex topic, and though they had touched upon it this year with basic plant property transmutation, it had been done to convert one plant to another of a similar genus. The kind of complex biological transmutation lessons that Snape had requested was ones that would be covered next year after he mastered the basic building blocks.

There was little Snape could do to proceed in this regard. Even Dumbledore, the man who gave him this task, seemed relaxed about the issue.

" _All in due time Severus,"_ he had said, infuriating the Potions Master with his inaction. The whole reason Snape had to do this had been due to the headmaster's refusal to use Fiendfyre on that blight Horcrux ring after all, and he didn't even have the decency to feel the urgency.

It wasn't all bad news on this regard however, as the topic of Focus Stones came to the fore in his lessons. A lesson Snape was certain would become invaluable in finding a way to transmute Basilisk Venom. Just over a week away from the full moon Snape spent the temporary window of peace experimenting with what this new branch of alchemy offered him.

The Focus stone was a catalyst used to reduce the magical power needed to make the transmutative change of one substance to the other. The more specialised it got, the lower it drew the power threshold. The creation of one was a complex and rather inexact matter, using symbolism more than magical science to construct.

It began with the solvent, a substance that controlled how specialised or general the Focus Stone would be. For a broad cover of elements water was generally used as it was the liquid that runs its course through the most substances on earth. For a specialised stone, the solvent was required to be a symbolic or chemical relevance to the substance the alchemist wished to transmute. The example given to Snape had been an aqueous salt brine in the transmutation of copper. A strange concept at first, but Flamel had explained that the metal is touched by an oxidised tarnishing, and a solution of salt was what sped it to its ultimate fate.

The second part of the Focus Stone was the nucleus. Often a spec of the substance that was to be the main focus of the stone. In the same example the nucleus would be a piece of copper, readily available after all the practice Snape had done.

The third part of the process was the most arbitrary of them all. A strand of memory that was somehow arbitrarily linked to the substance to be transmuted, a link Severus Snape had yet to fully understand. In the process of creating copper, Nicolas Flamel had told him many memories would work, but the memory the Professor used was one of what could only be from a century long past, with people dressed in the most odd assembly of clothing. He was trying to deal with a youth who he had paid to paint a portrait of Flamel and his wife. A wizard who made a name for himself as a great artist and all-round genius in the muggle world. An obvious Gryffindor had he ever been sorted, by how he procrastinated. In the end no painting was procured, and Flamel had faced the result with poise and incredible calm.

How that memory was in any way relevant to the element Cu of the periodic table was beyond the old potion's master but he persevered, attempting to create the stone as advised.

In his fingers he held a spec of Copper, one of many he ended up collecting, and held it aloft as he poured a pre-mixed into the small cauldron he would later use to brew the final steps of a dose of Wolfsbane. With a sonorous chant he invoked the incantations as he dropped the crumb of copper into the belly of the cauldron.

The liquid began to swirl about the copper nucleus, unbidden by physical force. Elated by this response Snape prepared the final addition.

A memory of calm.

Had it not been for Lily it would have been another difficult memory to find. Snape drew a silver strand from his temple and dropped it into the swirling pot, feeling the memory cloud within his own mind as he watched the strand seep into the mixture. The feeling did not alarm him as he knew the fading of the memory extraction was temporary. He often used it as a means to release himself of painful ones for temporary relief, but over time they would seep back as powerful as they ever were.

He was glad of it this time around as the memory he released was one he wished to keep. It was of a warm spring afternoon only a week ago, sitting by the lake with his Lily. A rare moment spent together without ulterior motives or commitments. A rare moment of frivolous idleness. She had laid her head upon his shoulder and dozed off lightly in the comfort of his warmth, and Snape had sat quiet and still so as not to wake her.

It was the clearest memory of calm contentment he could recall.

The memory of the warm calm afternoon swirled into the centre of swirling base, touching the nucleus. The entire bowl froze in a beige glaze as if suddenly transmuted into a chocolate drink put in stasis and Snape reached in to tap his wand hesitantly against the surface.

A solid mass met his wand tip.

With a silent sweep of his wand, Snape chipped the mass from cauldron's side, scourging the remaining shards from the belly of the vessel. The small brown stone sat jagged and irregular upon his bench, looking as unimpressive as it could possibly look.

If this was what the catalyst of copper looked like, it certainly was shy about it.

"Potioneering has certainly changed since I was at school," a booming voice observed over the boy's shoulder.

Even with his years of spy grooming, it was all Snape could do to not to leap from his skin. At no point had he noticed the ghostly chill that accompanied the presence of the Bloody Baron.

"It's alchemy you incorporeal fool," Snape scathed, not at all looking forward to a conversation with this suddenly antagonising ghost.

The Baron's ghostly eyes darkened. "Don't you dare insult me again," he growled dangerously, and even knowing that ghosts were incorporeal beings, incapable of harming the living, Snape felt the threat in his bones. He finally understood why Peeves feared the Baron so.

"I meant no disrespect," Snape muttered, there was no need to burn bridges with the dead.

The Baron nodded his ghostly head once, in acceptance of the young man's apology. "Severus, wasn't it? You appear haler."

"Are you haunting me?" Snape muttered as he returned his eyes back to his table. With a sweep of his wand he cleared it of scraps and moved the newly formed jagged stone into the dip within the runic meridian.

"Merely curious," the Baron answered, not even denying it. "I have noticed you found company in a beautiful young lady. Was she the original source of your angst?"

 _In more ways than one._ "Perhaps," Snape offered coolly, not at all inclined to discuss himself with the living or the dead.

The Baron fell strangely and suddenly quiet. With a quick glance upwards Snape found the ghost in contemplation, still watching him with those incorporeal eyes. Had they been subject to the touch of light, Snape felt those eyes would have been as dark and haunted as his own.

"She is someone important to me. Someone I had believed would never be able to love me back," Snape offered, after all the ghostly dead would have been his own brethren, had it not been for this impossible replay of his life.

"Then you are most fortunate, boy," the Baron muttered with a vague hint of a smile. "The heart of most do not find their paths to those that love them most true."

Snape dipped his head in acknowledgement. Though most would think that statement cynical, Snape had two lifetimes to believe it. "Too often we ourselves do not even realise how much we love them until we have already hurt them beyond forgiveness."

A deathly silence fell over the Baron, a strange shadowless darkness upon his ghostly face. "Are you mocking me?"

Snape glanced up with a confused frown.

"… That I should never be forgiven?" the Baron muttered, his pale eyes darting madly, a sudden confession sprung unrequested. "I harmed her, I did not mean to, but her death is on my hands." His pale face contorted in pain.

Snape felt dread stroking its cold fingers along his heart. Those words struck him too intimately. He turned away, disturbed by the stoic ghost's sudden and familiar grief.

"Oh Helena!" he moaned, ghostly chains rattling with rhythmic clinks. "My poor sweet Helena. How I have wronged you. It ismy fault that you died."

The Baron's wild eyes did not seem to even see the boy in front of him any longer. He moaned his ghostly moaned, rattling his chains with every beat of his breast. His words chilling the young man watching, to the core, in every way a reflection of the turmoil he believed laid to rest.

"I am sorry to hear that," Snape offered in muted condolence, but the stricken ghost appeared not to have heard him. Indeed, the young Slytherin appeared to be far from the Baron's ghostly mind as he howled his grief.

"With my blade I ran you through. Oh Helena!" the Baron wailed, his chains clanking with every motion. "You were right about me. You were always right about me. I do not deserve peace even in death." And with a ringing howl, the Baron swept through the wall, leaving the now silent Slytherin staring after him in his wake.

Leaving Snape alone once more, with only the dark thoughts that confession invoked for company.

* * *

It was the night before the full moon, and the werewolf had come personally to collect his last dose of Wolfsbane. Snape glowered as the boy entered, deeply irritated that the foul creature would presume to enter his sanctum, so close to his moment of returning to his feral nature at that.

But he said nothing. Instead, he scooped the rank liquid into the stoppered bottle the creature had returned to him and offered it back without comment.

"You cannot know how much this means to me," Lupin breathed, his fingers clasping the bottle delicately, as if it were the elixir to immortality.

With a venomous edge to his voice Snape scathingly responded. "If the effects were not known to me, one wonders why I would even bother to make it."

"Ha," The wolf had the gall to offer false laughter. "You're not a bad guy, Severus. Can I call you Severus?"

That he even had the gall to ask. "No."

"Uhh… Snape it is then," Lupin back-pedalled, certainly a familiar feeling for this disingenuous creature. "Well, I just wanted to say… thank you. I know it isn't easy to brew this." Snape glowered, hoping the wolf in boy's clothing would get the message and stop. No such luck, it appeared. "And I just want you to know it means the world to me. Truly. And I hope that at some point we might become friends."

Disgust seared his throat, ugly and hot. "We are not friends Lupin. We will never be friends!" Snape spat.

"Right. I'm sorry." Lupin dropped his gaze and rounded his shoulders in an apt act of contrition. But not for one moment did Snape truly believe him to be so. "I just wanted you to know… this grievance between our… circles. I feel you are very magnanimous to help me regardless."

It was all Snape could do to not upend the leftover contents of his cauldron onto the grovelling boy. To bellow _'get out!'_ on the top of his lungs. "It. Was. Not. For you!" the potion master seethed through clenched teeth.

Lupin's eyes widened with alarm, finally noticing the dark rage within the Slytherin boy. Finally realising what lay before him could never be cleared by mere offerings of good will. "I am sorry for… everything. There were truly terrible things done to you… and… I would do anything to rectify it."

With a snarl Snape swatted away the offer of the olive branch, "A pity then that the past cannot be changed."

As those words left his mouth he felt his soul chill. The mournful lamentations of ghostly regrets battered against the walls of his mind.

A blade that cut too close to the truth of his rotten core.

"Just go!" Snape commanded, his mind clouding suddenly with terrible dark thoughts. Thoughts that were never too far away.

With eyes round and startled, Lupin looked from between Snape and the exit, as if torn between the will to obey and the foolish belief that he could make amends. "I… I mean…. I'm sorry." He struggled briefly with himself before finally revealing his true intent. "Please don't stop making me this potion," the wolf begged. A truly disgusting sight. This was a creature without pride.

"That was never something that could be determined by you," Snape muttered. "I brew it because Lily asks it of me."

A still silence fell between them, the werewolf stared at the Slytherin boy, his brows furrowed in concern. But not concern for him. "If you're using this against her. Please stop." Snape blinked slowly, his dark eyes boring into the sandy haired boy before him. "If you're holding her with the promise of helping me, then please stop."

"Are you asking me to stop brewing the Wolfsbane… to release Lily?" Snape felt the incredulous rage within him. That this half breed would presume he was keeping her against her will.

But it was essentially true, was it not?

Even if she wished to, a kind heart like Lily would not leave him if she thought he would stop brewing otherwise, no matter how miserable she felt. She was the kind of person that gave everything to her friends, right up till the moment they became friends no longer.

"Get out," Snape muttered.

Lupin hesitated, his eyes glancing between the Slytherin and the door once more.

"I SAID GET OUT!" Snape roared, sending the wolf boy scampering with his tail between his legs.

As silence and calm settled within the lab once more, Snape laid his hands upon the bench, clenching his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. His heart was in turmoil. The happiness fled. _Unforgivable_ , the Baron's words had reminded him. _Profligate_ , the werewolf had insinuated of him. Unworthy of her, he felt.

Unworthy of her, and the joy she brought.

* * *

A/N: Yup, Wolfsbane is hard work. Poor Snape, never catches a break. Suspect no matter what good he does. Story of his life I'm sure.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 15th December 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 23: The Impossible Breach**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	23. The Impossible Breach

**Chapter 23: The Impossible Breach**

Alighting from the invisible horse drawn carriage Lily had determined this would be her last trip by train this year. Angelica Tills could danged well manage the Hogwarts Express on her own. The Head Girl had a disagreement with the Gryffindor Prefect over her leniency with the noise allowance, devolving into a full on spat that would have certainly have spilled over the noise threshold.

Ordinarily Lily would not have risen to such an occasion but her temper was frayed by the week she'd had. What should have been a peaceful week at home devolved into something straight out of the books from the Restricted Section on topic of the wizard prison Azkaban.

First of all, Petunia had returned, unannounced, the first day of holidays. Lily felt aghast with the idea of having to share such tight living quarters with her grievous sister, unable to stomach the prospect of a week spent enduring her scathing remarks about her ' _freak'_ of a school.

However, then it turned out it hadn't been as unannounced as Lily had thought. Her father had known her sister was returning. In fact, he had invited her. And with one thing in mind.

What Lily had expected to be a relaxing holiday at home turned into a full-blown intervention.

Lily had written letters in the month leading up to her homecoming to her father, sharing with him the wonderful news of Severus' amazing turnabout, leading into a gushing announcement of their decision to begin dating. The replies she had received never really conveyed the level of disapproval as this unwelcome homecoming surprise had revealed.

" _Lily. We need to talk,"_ Lily's father began, her holier-then-thou, sneering sister sitting by his shoulder, peering down at her in that oh-so-superior way. _"It's about this decision you've made in regards to Severus."_

" _It's abhorrent,"_ Petunia had remarked, not even bothering to keep the delighted disgust from her horse-like face. "Why would you choose a scrawny, filthy little thing like him?"

" _I'll have you mind your own business, thank you very much,"_ Lily returned with an upturn of her nose. With a pleading eye Lily beseeched her father, a man she could always rely on to put a stop to Petunia's nastiness.

But this time that was not to be. _"I'm afraid I'm inclined to agree with Tuney."_

After that horrifying encounter, the holiday had been a bit of a blur. What with the arguments and crying, and Petunia's shrieking, the Easter Break had turned out to be far more stressful than Lily could have ever anticipated.

And to top it all off, Severus hadn't returned a single Patronus mail she had sent. Lily took in the empty Entrance Hall steps, wondering if he even remembered that she was returning to school today.

Severus had been strangely distant since the lead up to the holidays, right down to the half-hearted goodbye he gave her at the Carriages. She had chalked it down to melancholy over their separation, after all he had confessed to feeling her departure most deeply. But through a combination of stress and a dose of angst herself, Lily could not help but feel far more cynical about the matter.

Upon entry into the ancient castle, Lily hesitated at the Entrance Hall, trying to decide whether to join the dinner table or not. Though it was quite late in the evening, the Great Hall was still bustling with food and fervour. Dinner time was usually extended on return days from holidays to make up for the evening arrival of the Hogwarts Express. Her friends were likely already there, filling in what little room they had after all the feasting they did when the snacks trolley came around on the train. No matter how much time had passed, Gryffindors could not help but act like first years when it came to food and fun.

Had the trip only been filled with the joys of jovial distraction, Lily would have been grateful. Instead it had been an onslaught of the same mantra she had been forced to endure all week at home. And she was frankly sick and tired of it. Sick of everyone who had an opinion about her life and her choice.

With a soft harrumph Lily gathered her duffle bag and marched down the Dungeon corridor, determined to find her boyfriend and make him explain why he hadn't replied to any of her Patronuses.

The answer broke through her haze of annoyance before she even pushed through the door to his laboratory.

"Enter," Severus' deep voice bade from the other side, and Lily did as she was invited, her temper cooling with the realisation that it was less than eighteen days till the full moon, according to her celestial timepiece. Meaning Severus would have been embroiled in the complexities of his work while Lily was beset with angry irrationality.

Feeling almost contrite, Lily proceeded to greet the boy sweetly. "Missed me, Sev?" she asked with a dazzling smile.

He glanced up from the round table at which he sat, little nubs of copper lined neatly about the surface in a row. A sight most telling of how much difficulties he must still be having with that subject. A smile broke forth upon Sev's severe face, a welcome sight warmer than her entire holiday with family had been.

"Doesn't look like potion craft," Lily observed with an easy smile, leaving her haze of annoyance at the door. It was obvious by the materials and instruments gathered on newly conjured shelves about this round scribed table that Sev had been hard at work for a while. "Alchemy, I presume?"

"Indeed," he responded coolly, standing up from his stool.

With a quick sweep of his wand he conjured the plush back seat again and nodded across the table as if to indicate she should sit there. That was the Severus Snape equivalent of pulling a seat out at the table, Lily supposed with a suppressed giggle.

Gathering up her skirts, Lily perched upon her seat, duffle bag resting at her feet. She was still dressed in her muggle clothes, unlike the first train ride up to Hogwarts each year, there was no requirement to change in the subsequent holidays. This was because there was no official ceremony for students to attend upon return from mid-term holidays.

"The potion's here," Severus indicated brusquely to a sealed cauldron puffing from a vent on the shelf behind him. "I will be working on it again soon."

"I missed the start day again," Lily whined, still smiling.

His dark eyes touched lightly upon hers, a smile edging underneath his rigid face. "Had you not left for Easter break you would not have."

"Alas, undone by my foolish desire to spend time with my family," Lily sarcastically replied, then added with some sobriety. "Although you might have been right about it this holiday."

"Did Petunia return?"

"Yup."

"My condolences."

Lily grinned. Severus had a real snarky humour whenever he felt like being funny. She briefly wondered if he'd since learned when it was appropriate and when he was just being mean. Of course she'd long since accepted there would be never any conciliatory remarks from him towards her sister, a sentiment she had since found herself agreeing with more and more.

"Wasn't just that Petunia returned, but that dad invited her," Lily muttered, conflicted about wanting to keep this spot of disharmony to herself. She knew the news of her family's thoughts on him would hurt Sev, but some things were too important a matter concerning both of them to keep to herself. "As it turns out… dad didn't like the idea that I'm dating you."

"Unsurprising," came his surprising reply.

"You agree with them?" Lily asked aghast.

A frown darkened Severus' brow as his eyes flickered away. "I am simply saying I understand why your father would dislike his daughter dating someone like me."

"What? But you're wonderful! And clever! Dad is a muggle doctor, he should appreciate intelligence!"

"And impoverished… Lily," he muttered, unable to meet her eyes.

Lily's eyes softened. She knew how much he hated when his unfortunate lack of means was called to attention. And for him to do so himself…

He had changed so much.

"I don't get it. I always thought he liked you. He was always insisting I invite you over for dinner. And asking me about your welfare, and about your home life."

With a shake of his head Severus replied, "That didn't mean he liked me." His fist clenched against the smooth liquored wood of the benchtop. "That meant he took pity on me. It meant he suspected my home life was not fit for a child."

"I can't believe you're empathising with my dad," Lily mumbled with a wane smile. "The Severus I know would have taken great offence at anyone who thought him unworthy of anything."

The briefest grimace flickered across the boy's face, "I've grown up, Lily."

The smile beamed across her face, "And I am so thankful for that." She leaned forward to pull the boy into a hug across the table, uncaring over how awkwardly she draped over the countertop. "It turned out six months apart was just what we needed, Sev."

He tensed beneath her arms, a very common reaction to being touched. He had always reassured Lily that he didn't hate it, but only now did she realise what his nervousness was for.

He loved her. A confession freely given, and now comfortably accepted.

She held him all the tighter, enjoying his warmth and bitter aroma, so very thankful that the foulness of the Wolfsbane did not cling as cloves did.

"Nice… necklace," he observed, his breath tickling her neck.

Lily grinned against his robe folds, "Finally noticed, have you? I've had it for months."

"Sorry," he muttered, his voice a deep rumble against her. She giggled at the foreign but not unpleasant feeling, causing him to shift nervously in her hold.

It honestly wasn't his fault. She wore it under her school robes, during a season where open collars were ill-advised. "I got it for my birthday. James gave it to me." She felt him still suddenly beneath her grasp, even the rise and fall of his chest seemed to cease. She suppressed the sudden coil of annoyance at Severus' reaction. "Surely you can't be jealous," she muttered, unable to believe he could be so petty. Still be so petty.

"It's hard to forget he had designs on you," came the growl rumbling from his chest.

Lily sighed into his scratchy robes, "And did you forget? I chose you in the end."

Sev fell silent again, a silence that felt more contemplative than hostile. "You chose me," he muttered, the rumbling of his chest a pleasant sensation against her own. He suddenly changed the topic, a strange tangent she could not fathom the root of. "I will be brewing again on the second Saturday of May. I want you to come and watch."

Lily drew back to look him in the eye with her own filled with concern. "I might distract you again." She had made the initial request, but the mess that resulted immediately after caused her to re-evaluate her immediate life ambitions.

"Then behave." He winced at his own brusqueness. "I meant… follow lab rules. You're a potioneer yourself. You should know how to treat this territory."

Immediately she released him and withdrew, allowing Severus to straighten with a forlorn expression drawn upon his sallow face. She wondered if he regretted his mandate. Not that she didn't agree with him.

"I… I want you to learn this potion," Severus continued, his dark eyes flickering to her own, "I want you to know how to brew it."

Lily nodded in agreement, "You already gave me a wonderfully comprehensive instruction manual." He had sent her on holidays with a twenty-four-page step by step guide of the brewing process, hidden by a spell that only allowed the pages to ink themselves in her hands. Severus really took his responsibilities to guard the secrets of this non-published potion seriously.

"We both know you learn better when you see it rather than read it."

The Gryffindor girl smiled, "That I do." Severus always knew the ways to teach her a concept she was failing to grasp. She had always thought that if he had half as much patience with others as he did with her, he would make a wonderful teacher.

"Then I insist you come and that you do so with the intention of learning," he insisted, his dark eyes suddenly piercing. "Learn the technique so that you do not have to rely entirely on me."

Lily's smile faltered. "You don't want to keep making it?" she asked. She understood how much of a hassle this brew was, it shouldn't come as a surprise that he didn't want a life sentence.

"I promised I would keep brewing it and I will," he answered resolutely. "But…" he hesitated, turning his eyes away, his crooked teeth beared in a scowl that seethed with self-loathing, "I do not want you to feel like… your only option lies with me."

Lily suddenly understood. Severus was trying to create for her an escape route. An option B for if she ever needed it. It broke her heart that he thought she would need one.

And warmed her heart in equal measures.

He loved her, he had once confessed, and nothing made her believe it more.

"Thank you Sev. I think I will come and watch," Lily accepted with a smile.

The scowl receded upon Severus' lips as he turned to grace her with a curt nod. A dark confusing look gleamed within his eyes.

"I have to go and unpack now. How about you walk me to the door?" Lily asked with a mischievous smile. Not to Gryffindor Tower, not to the Entrance Hall, just three feet to the door. Apparently, he hadn't noticed it as he stood stoically to obey the strange request, his expression unshifting.

Lily stood and shouldered her bag, allowing him to lead her to the door to the laboratory. He pulled open the door a fraction, just wide enough for the girl to pass through. She obliged, stepping past him before pausing just past the threshold.

She turned to meet his dark eyes, still staring from that crack in the door. With an unassuming gesture, Lily beckoned the watching boy closer. He opened the door a fraction wider, leaning in just far enough to easily hear her whispered words.

And just far enough for Lily to reach out and take hold of him, her hands cupped on either side of his cheeks, her fingers pressed through his long hair dangling about his jawline. With that she closed her eyes and leant in, pressing her lips suddenly and insistently against his.

She could feel his chapped thin lips curl upwards against hers. A smile only for her. A smile only she could elicit. His lips moved gently against hers, his rapacious haste discarded in favour of soft revelry.

Then all too soon it ended. She felt him slip from her hands, the touch of his lips becoming only a breath upon her own. She edged her eyes open and found him retreated back beyond the threshold of his door, those dark ones boring into her, a mixture of elation and doubt swirling within.

"Not going to break your lab rules Sev. I won't kiss you if you're in there," Lily warned, only half in jest.

A smile touched those kissed lips, and for that moment at least the doubt in those darkened pits receded a fraction. Lily ran her fingers along that angular jaw, feeling the roughness of newly grown stubble against her fingertips.

A pang of sadness clenched Lily's heart.

Here was a man who knew such deep love, yet never felt its touch returned.

Nor ever expected it to be.

* * *

The Gryffindor common room was a brightly coloured bustle of activity. Many of the newly returned had not yet changed into their black school robes. Vibrant hues of muggle and wizard attire alike brought the usually lively den into a positively vibrant atmosphere, helped along with the bustle of the usually lively folks who lived there.

Though their separation lasted a grand total of one week, to Gryffindor friends it had been felt keenly. Greetings were exchanged, as well as delight over shared news and mutual gripes over the last stretch to the terrible exams to come. Loudest of all were from the Prewett brothers, Gideon and Fabian, in between boasting to everyone about the new addition to their extended family. Their elder sister had apparently had given birth to her third son several months ago, and they had only just caught up with their family tally over the holidays. They ran about showing anyone who'd give them the time of day, photos of their nephews Bill, Charlie and, the youngest, Percy.

"There she is!" Marlene exclaimed the moment Lily stepped through the portrait hole. "I swear you were just one carriage behind us. How'd you take that long to get up here?"

"Detour," Lily answered, shrugging her duffle bag from her shoulder, very acutely aware of her muggle skirt and blouse in the midst of so many jewel coloured robes. Everyone who had to take the Hogwarts Express through platforms nine-and-three-quarters were required to wear some semblance of a muggle garb. However as most of her year mates had since earned their qualifications to Apparate they had no such obligation.

From the beautiful sweeping blue of Marlene's robes, to the vibrant yellows and greens of Pandora's, Lily felt ever so out of place in her muggle skirt. Even Susan was dressed in wizarding attire despite being a half-blood and having spent most of her holidays with her extended muggle family. Mary was the only one of her friends who dressed in muggle fashion, and even then, it was a brand completely different from Lily's. This "Hippy" trend hadn't tickled Lily the same way, and honestly, she hadn't known any others into this philosophy.

"You slip off for a quick snog down in the dungeons, did you?" Marlene asked in a tone that time had not seemed to have shed any of its disapproval.

Lily was getting a tired of all these little jabs about her and Severus, especially after the week she'd just had. "If you must know, yes. I was just down there. And yes. We snogged."

Susan pulled a face while Marlene simply glared sullenly at her wayward best friend, a look that bespoke of erred judgement. Lily knew her friend was simply concerned for her, and all things considered, she was not incorrect in her concern. The lessons of the past seemed to be in her favour. But after seeing how affected Severus had been over his own doubts in this regard, Lily was feeling far less charitable about the whole affair. "Just leave us alone okay?" She snapped. "He's my boyfriend, not yours."

"Right. Whatever." Marlene turned, and marched off, her suitcase bounding after her.

Pandora looked between them with a pinch of mild concern atop her brow. Her black cat Achilles too volunteered an opinion, glaring at Lily with mild annoyance from the basket that swung from his owner's arm. Susan stood wide eyed with her hands clasped over her mouth in an over-board show of surprise. She was probably having the time of her, life the drama-monger she was.

"She was only concerned for you, Lily," Mary offered gently with a gentle touch upon her arm.

The suddenly chastised girl turned away, guilt prickling as her temper cooled. "It's not like I don't know," she mumbled.

With a shrug of her shoulder, Lily pushed past her friends, seeking a secluded corner of the common room to hide in. Marlene was no doubt unpacking upstairs and she didn't feel like coming face to face with her so soon after unleashing her temper.

It wasn't anybody's fault, it was simply a bad combination of home-life-meets school-life-meets-bad-time-of-the-month. She was always that little bit more temperamental during these times but it was probably the first time Marlene had been caught in the crossfire. When they both had had time to cool down Lily would have to apologise, but not right now. Right now, she was still morally outraged on Severus' behalf. Everybody could damned well mind their own business.

"You look like you need someone to vent to," Remus' pleasant voice shook Lily out of her mire of grumpiness. Here was a man who feared nothing.

With a limber elegance, Remus deposited himself into the armchair opposite. He got around just fine on every other week of the month. Had it not been for his dark affliction, he would have been a fit and healthy young man.

"I'm fine Remus. Thanks for asking," Lily muttered, unwilling to burden Remus with her troubles. He had enough on his plate without needing to hear about her day, or week.

The sandy-haired boy smiled cordially, his hands folded before him in a gesture of patience. "I noticed you looked harried since the train ride up, Lily. If you want to talk about it, know that I'm here."

Lily gave him a thankful smile and shook her head. Without insisting any further Remus leaned back in his seat. "Then if you don't mind, I'd like to keep this seat until my friends show up. James and Sirius were Apparating here together later and Peter's out with a stomach ache. Said he had bad ham in his sandwich on the train ride up."

"Please do," Lily replied with a smile, quite thankful she still had someone to make small talk with until the tempers blew over in the girl's dorm. "Anything good happen for you over the holidays?"

"Yes actually. I was able to spend all of my holidays outside of recuperation," Remus answered with an unburdened grin. "First day back and my father could hardly believe his eyes. Not one week out of full moon and I was up and about like nothing was the matter."

Lily felt her heart swell. "I'm so happy for you." Here it was, the wonderful proof that Severus had become someone who brought good to the world. He had given this wolf-cursed boy a second lease on life, where, nobody else could have.

"He spent the whole holidays asking me what I was doing differently to cope," Remus continued with a reminiscent smile. "I've never seen him so… relieved."

A pang of empathy twinged her heart. Not long after Remus found out about Lily's acceptance he had told her the full story of how he was turned. His father had angered a werewolf named Fenrir Greyback, who in revenge savaged his then-young son. The father had blamed himself since then for Remus' condition, chasing every whisper of a miracle cure to the ends of the earth. Whittling down their once-comfortable lot in life to nothing.

"Did you tell him?" Lily asked, grinning from ear to ear.

The sandy-haired boy's smile seemed to falter. "Um. No. I… didn't want to get his hopes up."

Lily could sigh with exasperation. "His hopes should be up! His son has found his miracle in the form of a potion, with a super talented potioneer brewing it to boot." Her grin widened. "In fact! I was just down there, and you'll be happy to know I didn't ruin it this time. He's already got your next batch coaxed well past its danger phase. You won't be going without any for the foreseeable future."

Strangely, rather than becoming elated with this news, Remus' usually calm expression seemed to grow concerned. "I had thought… he might have… stopped."

The Gryffindor girl's brows pinched in concern. "Did you say something to offend him?"

"Wasn't my intention, I assure you," the sandy haired boy offered with an aversion of his gaze. "I… only wanted… I wanted him to… think about you."

Lily frowned in confusion. "I don't think he's ever stopped thinking about me. It's kind of how we got here." Remus' nervous smile was what clued her into the true implications of his words. "Oh, my goodness. _You_ were the one that made him think he has me trapped with the Wolfsbane?"

"Oh. He's spoken with you about it then?" The concern in his eyes seemed to lessen marginally.

With a roll of her eyes Lily huffed, "If by spoken to me, you mean refused to even kiss me lest I feel coerced, then sure." It wasn't really that severe but Lily wanted Remus to feel properly guilty for his meddling.

And guilty he looked, when he lowered his eyes in an appropriate show of chastisement. "Sorry… I mean…"

Lily relented, taking some pity on the boy. "Look. Remus. I get that you want to look out for me. Thank you," she impressed with a stern tone. "But please. When it comes to Severus, please just trust me on my judgement. Nobody knows him better than me." Even after six months separation… Even after his sudden and immeasurable change…

"Of course, Lily," Remus ducked his head. "Please understand I did not mean to… I only wanted to ensure that your concern for my condition hadn't placed you in a terrible situation. Not many people care about me once they know… and of those that do, they often wind up doing silly things on my behalf."

He was thinking again about his father, and perhaps of James, Black and Peter. People who had placed themselves in financial or physical danger because of his terrible affliction. Her heart softened, her friend's sincere concern touched her. "Well. You'll be glad to know then, that Severus has taken your words seriously. He's invited me to watch when he starts the next batch so that I may learn, and lay my worries to rest if there was ever a cause to."

With a tired smile Remus sat back, his green eyes softened as the tension fled his form. "Then I will concede in every way that I was wrong about him. I should not have intruded upon your affairs. I'm sorry."

"For that you should be," Lily harrumphed, but with upraised eyebrows so that Remus knew she wasn't holding it too much against him. "I already have enough problems dealing with his self-esteem issues without everyone giving him their less than flattering opinions."

"Would it help if I told him I think he's alright?" Remus asked in a light tone that suggested it was more in jest than an actual offer.

To which Lily regarded quizzically. "Are you actually offering? I wouldn't say no."

A voice sounded right in her ear. "Nor would I really."

Lily almost jumped out of her skin. She turned quickly, almost striking the glasses from the bridge of James' nose with her flailing start. It was only the boy's quick Quidditch reflexes that saved him from a bloodied face and a very apologetic Lily.

"Holidays been well I hope, Moony," Black greeted casually, as if his best friend hadn't almost been assaulted by a well-meaning but easily startled girl.

"Better than most, Padfoot," replied Remus politely, sliding back into their habit of nicknames whenever they get cosy.

"Shall I leave you three alone to hug it out?" Lily asked, ready to concede her corner was no longer her corner.

James, however, stopped her with a casual lean upon the armrest of Remus' chair, and declared, "We'll do it later. Right now, I'm more interested talking with you. About us and Snape." Black groaned and rolled his eyes, evidently this topic did not suddenly emerge as a surprise to him.

"What about you guys?" Lily asked, a little worried about where this was going. When it was just Remus, the topic of Severus didn't seem too inflammatory. But when almost the whole set of Marauders got involved then there was no telling which direction things would take.

"Well. I've been doing a lot of thinking over the holidays." Not a sentence often associated with James Potter. "Everything Snape's been doing for us lately has been real swell. Makes me feel real shitty for how I've treated him over the years."

"He kinda deserved it then," Black groused uncharitably.

"And I was thinking," James continued, glossing over his friend's obvious distain. "Perhaps I should go and apologise. Bridge this divide, so we could put this behind us."

Remus squirmed nervously. "He didn't want to hear it from me when I apologised."

"That's because you really have nothing to be sorry for," James quipped to his friend with a condescending pat. "While Sirius and I on the other hand have many grievous errors to wrong."

Black scowled darkly, "You're on your own, mate."

"Fine. I have a great many a grievous error to wrong." James forged on, not at all dissuaded by the lukewarm encouragements from his friends. "And I'll be obliged if you could arrange for me to talk to him one-on-one."

"Stupid idea." Black muttered, but Lily was not at all dissuaded.

The opposite in fact. "He's down in his lab right now! If we hurry we'll make it back before curfew."

With a reflexive sweep of the back of his hair, James smiled his roguish smile. "Well, what are we waiting for?"

* * *

The potion was bubbling away once again, brought to the boil in preparation for the straining process. Every evening flocculants had to be added and treated with heat to aid clot formation, a necessary step to purify the body of the base while it matured under a moulding process not dissimilar to accelerating maturation in cheese. Though this step had never been part of the original Wolfsbane recipe, Professor Snape had added it to accelerate the abhorrent maturation time this potion demanded, his one modification to this entirely ingeniously complex potion.

This acceleration process required fifteen minutes of his attention nightly, a necessity that had been relaxingly omitted in the original text in favour of four weeks of freedom. The payoff however had been a fix for the hit-or-miss result in the final product, subverting the risk of wasting five weeks of work. With Snape's modified accelerated maturation process, the maturation would be monitored every step of the way ensuring the time and materials spent on it were not wasted.

Dipping a steel wired sieve carefully into the concoction, Snape fished out the impurities that congealed upon the surface, taking care not to split the clumps. Compared to the head and tail of this fiddly potion, this bland repetitive task bridging the two was barely an issue. At this stage even the smell was mild, another vast improvement of both ends.

With one last stroke upon the surface of the bubbling potion, Snape lowered the flames. With a prod of his wand, he cooled the contents of the cauldron in a controlled application of the freezing spell. He recapped the lid and flipped the vent back, declaring an end to his nightly responsibilities.

With a sense of closure, Snape set the cauldron back into its spot on the battered shelf, still embedded with metal shrapnel from the predecessor. Potioneering, at the very least, still afforded the now-young-man some semblance of comforting familiarity. Between that and frequent positive interactions with those around him, his life was as close to tolerable as it'd ever been. Good, even.

For once in his life Severus Snape was not a target for ridicule, nor was he forced to play the fool for malicious amusement or necessity of the greater good.

And he was no longer alone.

For whatever undefinable reason Lily had answered his confession, and found it in herself to return some semblance of his love. For whatever reason it might have come about, in whatever form it took, he wanted to grasp it and not let go. To hold her to her decision, as rashly made and unwisely kept as she had.

Snape scowled, feeling the bite of his own guilt keenly.

He had already wronged her enough for one lifetime, he did not need to add to his sins. He would not pursue anything further with her. Not yet. Not until he could be certain whatever she felt for him was not influenced by a sense of duress.

It sickened him to think that it might. That every touch and smile she gifted him was pried from an unwilling heart. Perhaps this was one of those times where it would be morally right to touch upon her mind. He would remove all doubt about the situation, one way or another.

But that created a dangerous precedent for the future. The violation of her mind would become morally justifiable whenever he became touched by doubt.

And doubt he would, for he had already lived through life. He maintained no illusions over his desirability. Even in the years where he had not been plagued by poverty and constant torment, when he no longer was forced to dress in rags, when his health was not constantly besieged by his poor diet, no woman glanced his way. In a way that had suited him fine. He could never have made a relationship work, not with the guilt and penance his life had become.

That Lily would then become the only woman in two lifetimes to ever look his way was almost laughable in its unfeasibility, in more ways than just the mere idea of a second chance at life would allow.

Why should he be allowed to be happy?

A knock on the door tore Snape from his unhappy musings. The thought that it might be Lily fluttered through his mind accompanied by a hopeful squirm in his gut, then promptly flooded him with subsequent guilt.

"Enter," he barked as he hurried to wrestle his thrice blasted hormone enhanced emotions under control. He hated this accursed teenage body. But any thoughts of fancy fled the moment when that the door swung open and revealed that damnable bespectacled face.

"Potter," he hissed, as close to a greeting as he could have ever seen himself give this demonic boy.

True to form the lead tormentor of the Marauders appeared not to catch the hostility in Snape's tone. With an air of cool reassurance, he invited himself over the threshold and entered the Slytherin boy's domain. "Evening Snape. Heard you were hard at work brewing this month's Wolfsbane batch."

"Indeed Potter. So, I don't know why you would come down here and risk _spoiling_ it." He placed as much threat into that statement as he could manage.

"It's James," replied the fleckless boy, seemingly not at all affected by this frosty reception.

Snape could taste the bitter hatred on his tongue. "Had I not known your given name I would be all the happier for it. Now out with it, _Potter_!"

The boy's smile faltered then, finally getting it into his thick skull that his presence was not welcome. "Umm right. You're probably busy so I'll be quick," he cleared his throat in his obnoxious self-important way. "Seeing how you turned out to be not a bad guy, what with reforming the snakes and helping Remus, I'm here to apologise for my part in our bad history," he offered as nonchalantly as if commenting on the weather. "So here goes. I'm sorry for the shitty things I've done."

Snape was momentarily struck dumb, misbelieving the incredulity of the boy's presumptive air. "Are you asking for forgiveness?" The potion master hissed, his voice a venomous whisper.

"Umm… yeah. That'd be a good start," he replied with a grin, so confidently self-assured.

Fury bubbled beneath the surface. Snape could hear his heart thud loudly within his ears as the bitter bile of his hatred threatened to choke him. "You wish to be forgiven… for the years you've tormented me for?" The smile was beginning to slip off his face, along with the blissful ignorance in his eyes. "And what about the injuries you've caused me? Am I to forget it all? Or the humiliation you've wrought me...?" Snape trailed off dangerously, his black pupils pin pricks. The incident by the lake could never be forgotten. A traumatic scar within his psyche.

This boy, this self-righteous bully of a boy, had stripped him of his dignity that day. An unprovoked attack brought on by nothing more than teenaged boredom. One incident that pushed him further to the brink than anything that came before, or had come since. An incident that was galling enough by its own merits, but that memory had the added token of bitter loss.

The day he had lost Lily forever.

Had he not been brought as low as he had. Had he not been riling from fury and humiliation.

Had he not said those terrible words…

"It was your fault," Snape seethed, his mind swimming in dark memories, in bitter regrets. "Your fault I succumbed as I did. Your fault that I lost all that I had!" _Your fault I could never find peace again._ "Get out!" He roared, startling the Gryffindor boy. "Get out! I do not accept your apology!"

Potter took an involuntary step back, his face pale and uncertain, a far cry from the cocky brat that swaggered through the door. "I said I'm sorry, alright? I get that I've done some pretty awful things to you. I get that." He seemed to struggle for words in the face of such unexpected vitriol. "But back then… you didn't seem like a decent bloke. And I've been proven wrong. I'm man enough to admit it. What you've done for Remus… well it was big of you-"

"It was not for you. It was never for any of you!" Snape spat.

"Right. It was for Lily." Potter was beginning to pull himself together, rearranging the surprise off his expression. "And how grateful you were that we saved her when we did. Well guess what, that wasn't for you either. But I'm glad that you took it upon yourself regardless to do us a good turn." His voice regained a semblance of its conviction, his head tilted in an apologetic but dignified manner. "In return I hope you can at least take solace in the fact that we are no longer your enemies. Though we may never be friends, we wish you no ill. And we will always look out for Lily."

"Stay away from her!" Snape roared, slamming his fist against the table, making the Gryffindor boy jump and his knuckle throb with pain.

 _He will not have her again_. He seethed. A choice made in another life, Lily's unfathomable decision flittered through his mind, starkly and insistently, mingling with his sudden intense fear of reliving the heartbreak. _He will_ _ **not**_ _have her!_

Potter however raised one arrogant eyebrow. "Bit possessive, aren't you?"

His mind was white with anger. There was no more reasoning. "You will not win her this time!"

"Win?" A flash of anger touched the boy's hazel eyes. "She's not a prize, Snape."

 _No. She's worth so much more._ The rage collided with his self-loathing, his warring states threatening to tear him apart from within.

"Leave," he rasped, unable to muster anymore fight into his tone. Suddenly and irrevocably exhausted.

It appeared Potter had finally gotten the message. Without another word to the contrary the Gryffindor boy turned on his heels and headed swiftly to the door. He yanked it open with every intention of a dignified exit, except the motion sent a sudden flurry of limbs and red hair falling through.

With the reflexes of an aerial sportsman, James Potter caught the falling Lily with a grace Snape could never dream of replicating. A moment of awkward silenced passed between the three, as Lily clumsily found her feet, looking surprisingly lacking in contrition having been caught eavesdropping.

Potter released her the moment she could stand without falling, making a show of letting go by raising his hands in a mocking gesture. "I'm sure you two have a lot to talk about," he muttered in a tone void of any of its previous cordiality. He stepped around the wide-eyed girl and exited, leaving the room suddenly heavy with anxious silence.

The seconds passed and neither spoke. For Snape at least, even the exercise of meeting Lily's eyes was a challenge. His own refusing to obey, hovering low just beyond the lip of the bench.

Lily was the first to speak, her soft voice lancing through the thick silence. "I thought it was a good idea…" An admission she could barely bring herself to whisper.

Snape felt himself curling into his own chest, unable to bring himself to face those earnest green eyes and tell her why he could not forgive when she had done so for him so readily. Why even when the magnitude of their sins could not be comparable in scope, Snape could not find it within himself to let this go.

"Sev. Look at me," she urged, her voice suddenly closer.

Emotionally exhausted, Snape lifted his head upwards to cast Lily a blank glance, hoping the effort was enough to satisfy her. Instead he found her hands braced upon either side of his face, forcing him to meet her eyes, preventing him from turning away.

Those green eyes bore into him, those pure and earnest eyes that touched his soul in a way nothing else ever could. He flinched away, yanking himself from her grasp, and retreated a step. Again, she reached for him, but this time a gentle hand upon his forearm. He stilled at the touch, his eyes trailing the floors of his lab.

"Sev," she spoke softly, her voice as gentle as her touch, "I know you two have history. Things like that are not easy to forget or forgive… but… don't you think it's time to put the past behind you?"

A rush of rage boiled forth from Snape's core, bitten down sharply at his gullet. With a darkened scowl Snape shook off her hand, suppressing his angry outburst with great effort. He would not have Lily pay for James Potter. Not again.

"Sev," Lily tried again, her hand flying to his wrist, "I know things aren't easy for you. I know what he did to you. You have every right to be angry, you have every right still."

 _You have no idea. No_ _ **idea**_ _._ Of how far off-path James Potter and his Marauders had chased him. Of how willingly he fell into the darkness, driven by his eternal bitterness, unable to see clearly for the hatred that clouded his heart. No, the Lily that knew lived within a bottle within her own possession.

A sudden fit of loneliness gripped Snape's heart, an irrational and fervent wish for the Lily that understood him. A wish that would place her in unreasonable danger. A wish that broke every vow he made to himself. Guilt bubbled from his heart, adding to the cacophony within his soul. A tempest of emotions surging and clashing, until they finally boiled over.

The first tears that dropped upon his cheeks made Lily recoil in surprise. Her grasp slackened her grip, allowing Snape to yank away, swiping his rough sleeves across his face in an angry motion, hoping against all feasibility that she hadn't seen.

Her hands touched him again, a gentle brace against his torso, before she slipped them about him, pulling him against her. She said nothing more as she held him, silent in the comfort she offered him as he stood shuddering, unable to stop this shameful display.

"I can't forgive him!" He croaked through his irrational sobs. "I won't forgive him." For the terrible humiliation he would never be able to shake. For breaking all that he had once had with the only person that ever mattered in his life. For failing to protect her when his foolishness condemned her.

But in the end, those had been more Snape's fault than Potter's. The scars the boy inflicted upon his soul had been nothing compared to those inflicted by himself.

He owed Lily more than he could ever repay.

"But. For you. I can try," he rasped, forcing the words from gritted teeth, bile and bitterness rising from the very thought.

"No. Don't forgive him for me," came Lily's unexpected reply. She pulled away and peered upwards, brushing away his sleeve so she could meet his tear-stained eyes. "Forgive him for yourself." She laid her warm hand on his chest, over where his heart would be. "You don't deserve to carry this around with you any longer."

He pulled her into his arms, burying his tear streaked face into her shoulder. He felt her hands slide about him into a returning embrace. "I'll try," he muttered into her robes. "For you. And for me."

* * *

Curfew had barely settled about the castle when Lily stumbled back through the Gryffindor Portrait hole, feeling emotionally assaulted. She had sat with Severus for what had felt like hours, conversing over whatever mundane thing crossed their minds. Severus had calmed quickly, his sudden alarming outburst wiped away in a manner of minutes, until all that remained of his tears of unspoken frustrations was a red ring about his eyes, barely visible in his sunken sockets.

But Lily could not forget that outburst. That glimpse into his tortured heart, of pain he always tried to hide. The thought of him dealing with that alone sickened her, and that was what would have happened, had she not allowed him back into her life.

The Marauders were still up in the common room, seemingly unexhausted by the long trip back from holidays. All four were huddled together by the fire in discussion, their voices carried across the mostly empty common room, seemingly uncaring of any who might listen in.

"That damned haughty Snivellus. Bet he enjoyed laying you low." Black's outraged carried most clearly. Apparently the 'I told you so's were already over. "Probably expects a public grovelling."

"Yeah well… He wasn't wrong," came James' surprisingly reasonable voice. He was a man whose temper waned as quickly as it arose, twice so for his recent reasonable attitude.

Black recoiled as if struck, his handsome face twisted with incredulity. "Have you forgotten those times he hexed us? Like that time he caught Peter alone in the hallways and sent him to the Hospital wing, his face almost inside out." The pudgy boy nodded in affirmation, still pale and sweating from his bad turn with his sandwich. "Or when he tried to spill the beans on you-know-what? Had it not been for old Dumbledore there, let's just say there would have been worse things to be had than expulsion."

"And you were the one who told him where to go," Remus returned in a hushed tone, far more cautious to listening ears.

"You almost got him killed," agreed James quite solemnly.

Black twisted his face in an ugly scowl, "And it would have been no more than he deserved, the horrid git."

"Not anymore," James muttered, and all four of them fell into a brooding silence.

Lily approached, her heart aching for her poor Severus, but feeling keenly the Marauder's plight too. To know they had wronged grievously, but being unable to help the past.

"He'll forgive you. Eventually," Lily offered softly as she approached the four boys. James glanced up, a tired smile etched into his eyes.

Black, however, seemed less than mollified. "He should have accepted what he got, that greased up hairball."

"Frankly, you're lucky he's doing anything for you at all!" Lily snapped, feeling a surge of annoyance at the boy's unapologetic nature.

"He's doing it for you," James reminded her, a tired lopsided smile gracing his face. Even his hair laid flat, very telling of his exhaustion if he lacked even the energy to habitually ruffle the back of his hair.

"Would have been petty of him to refuse," Black scathed darkly.

Lily sighed, "Do you know how long and difficult the potion is? It is not insignificant that he would commit to do so."

"If it takes eighteen days it does look like hell to brew," James conceded, "and he did look like hell brewing it." No doubt remembering that Monday the diligent potioneer stumbled into class half-dead.

Black threw up his hands as if warding off the guilt that mired his best friend, lest it be infectious. "Well I don't know what you want us to do!" He snapped. "We already said sorry. He ain't buying it!"

Lily suppressed that grimace of annoyance and tried to beseech her friends calmly. "He needs time. What you guys put him through isn't something you can expect him to just _get over_."

"Everybody's still talking about it," Peter offered in a hushed tone, his expression halfway between ashamed and nervous.

Lily could not quite believe she had never truly sat down and thought on how badly Severus must have fared from this ill-treatment. It had not been a simple humiliation, but one that had scarred him to the core. She hadn't witnessed what happened after she turned away from him that day, but she had heard James say those words. _"Who wants to see me take off Snivelly's pants?"_

Mired in her own righteous fury she hadn't turned around. She ignored the vicious laughter that erupted around her. She ignored his howls of fury and humiliation.

"That might have been a step too far," Black conceded, surprising them all.

Remus nodded in agreement, his brows pinched in concern, "I would find it difficult to forgive something like that as well."

Even among her friends the incident was recalled, unreasonably frequently, and with sickeningly twisted humour. And now she felt so ashamed she hadn't done anything more to defend him.

* * *

A/N: Who else thought it was a terrible idea when James thought to go personally apologise?

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 29th December 2017 AEDT.

 **Chapter 24: Removal of Duress**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	24. Removal of Duress

**Chapter 24: Removal of Duress**

There was no denying it. He was skulking.

Snape peered around the library shelves to peek at the table where Lily sat amongst her fellow Gryffindors, textbooks piled high before her, scribbling furiously on what would likely be tomorrow's Transfiguration's homework. It seemed she too suffered from the frequent Gryffindor affliction of leaving work to the last minute.

Behind him stood a Ravenclaw, alternating periodically between browsing and shooting him suspicious glances. Snape sent him scampering away with a well-placed glower. He wasn't trying to be creepy, he had a purpose for approaching her today. He just didn't have an opportunity to do so.

It had been less than a week since the passing of May's eldritch moon. A month since he avowed himself control, to wait until he could pass to her the Wolfsbane Potion, and ensure any advance she might accept of him would be of her own volition. However that conviction was always tested when Lily would pursue instead, and in those moments he allowed himself to indulge. Allowed himself to believe that she chose this willingly.

She sat now at that table, amongst two other Gryffindor girls and a Ravenclaw, only one of which he recognised as the younger McGonagall. Of the other two he could barely recall, but he had the distinct impression the Ravenclaw was someone he would hate to have in his potions class.

Though he had long since completed his homework for this week, Snape had briefly thought to take a table within eyesight of Lily and for her to notice him. Perhaps do a little alchemical reading to camouflage his intent. It would have certainly beat skulking about these bookshelves and making a royal nuisance of himself.

Unfortunately every table were already occupied by at least a smattering of students, quite frequently Ravenclaw. Nobody would feel comfortable for Snape to share their table, least of all Snape. He scanned some of the Slytherin tables, hosting far younger students than he was used to interacting with. They at least might feel somewhat more at ease with his presence than any of the other strangers, but whether or not it would be the same for Snape would be another matter entirely.

He peaked around at the Gryffindor girls one more time, trying to decide whether it wouldn't be a better idea to ambush Lily after class tomorrow, or simply wait for her to head out for the bathroom or fresh air. But no, even then a pack of girls would no doubt follow. That was the strange thing about teenaged girls. They were rarely solitary creatures.

Or he could get his tail from between his legs and deliver his message directly. He had been dating Lily for almost three months now and he still could not bring himself to approach her when she was with company. This was about as humiliatingly cowardly as he had ever permitted himself to act. These were teenaged girls, not the Dark Lord's Inner Circle or the Warlocks of the Grand Wizengamot.

Before any decision could be come to, a voice sounded in Snape's ear, startling him into mortified stillness. "Come to talk with our Lily, Severus Snape?"

Snape scowled as he stepped back to regard this surprisingly sneaky Gryffindor. With a little surprise he found he could recall this girl's name as Mary, the only other muggle born in Lily's cohort, with a surprisingly non-judgemental smile on her face. "Want me to go fetch her for you?" she asked, surprisingly reasonably.

"That would be… decent of you," he muttered, unable to stop the humiliating sense of relief he felt over being spared the task of facing a table full of teenaged girls.

Without another word she left, flitting over to Lily's side with an air of ease that Snape wished he could emulate. He had been thankful to see that the girl kept her word and spoke to Lily in only whispers, alerting none of the others sitting at the table to his request, and frankly embarrassingly stalker-like presence. Unfortunately Lily shared none of her sense of subtlety.

She immediately sat up straight in her seat and looked directly his way. "Sev!" she hissed, no doubt believing herself to be whispering, waving her arms in a beckoning gesture. Snape cringed as all eyes at that table swung about to meet him, and momentarily contemplated disillusioning himself and melting into the shelves.

"Sev!" Lily tried again, this time louder. Snape glared back with an air of incredulity. There was no other choice if he didn't want to look absolutely foolish while being chased out by a screeching Madam Pince.

With his head down he crossed the open floor quickly, hoping to evade further scrutiny from those curious eyes that followed. He arrived at the table just as a chair slid across the room and positioned itself by Lily's side. She leaned over and smiled over the offered chair, and Snape could only stare back at her, refusing to believe she could actually not realise he had no desire to approach a table full of no doubt cruel-tongued teenaged girls, much less sit with them.

"We've heard so much about you," the unknown Gryffindor remarked with an excited gleam in her eyes. Snape immediately regretted the decision to leave the safety of the bookshelves.

"Oh, leave him alone, Susan," Lily chastised in a hushed whisper to her somewhat too eager friend.

Snape squirmed internally, unwilling to show any more weakness in front of so many witnesses. "I just wanted a quick word with you," he muttered to Lily, his eyes darting away from her insistent green ones.

A suddenly swooping shadow had them all scrambling to lower their heads. Madam Pince swept by, glaring at all the tables suspiciously. The library was no place to talk, that vulture of a lady could be drawn by a breath taken too loudly.

He felt the prickle of magic settle about him, sealing the table in a bubble of silence. "There. Now you can speak to her as loudly as you like," the Ravenclaw chirped, seemingly delighted to be helpful.

"Thanks Dorcas," Lily grinned, as she reached over and tugged Snape's sleeve, finally tired of tempting him with gentle urging.

Not wanting to create a scene Snape surrendered and seated himself, feeling all too aware that every eye at the table was on him. The girl, Susan, was actually grinning at him like a manic hyena. Even Lily was smiling, like his discomfort was some amusing joke, as she brushed her fingers up his arm and left goose bumps in her wake.

He cleared his throat subtly. "I… just wanted to remind you, Lily, to set aside the entire day for Saturday. You'll have to be up before seven."

"For what?" she asked, her eyes wide and clueless. As he thought, she had already forgotten the commitment she had made a month ago to learn the Wolfsbane.

He grimaced and mumbled, "To brew."

Thankfully Lily finally realised his message without any more need of subtle hints. "Oh!" She sat up with a start, but collected herself before she could give anything away. "Right of course. Thanks for the reminder."

"Oooh Lily. What's Saturday?" that Susan girl lilted obnoxiously.

Snape was momentarily confused. Had he not just said they were brewing a potion?

"Oh, ignore her," Lily mumbled to Severus, her fingers tightening upon his sleeve. "She thinks everything is a conspiracy for lewdness." He scowled and turned away, he felt those fingers upon his forearm tense as she no doubt sensed him readying to leave. "She didn't mean anything bad by it."

"Yeah no judgement here," offered Mary, surprisingly kindly, "though the Potions lab wouldn't have been my first choice, you kids play however you like."

Lily turned to her with an air of exasperation while the rest of the girls broke out in a fit of giggles. That was about all the Slytherin boy could take. "Right. That's all I came to tell you," he muttered as he pulled out of Lily's grasp.

"Aw Sev. Don't go," Lily pleaded with air of apology,

"Yes, please stay," Dorcas agreed. "You appear far better with Transfigurations this year than you had been in the last. What is your secret?"

Snape's lips twisted in displeasure. How very like a Ravenclaw to believe anyone performing better than them would have a 'secret.' "I study," he barked, as he made to stand. "If you'll excuse me. Alchemy." Class wasn't to be for another half an hour at least but he found he could wait no longer.

With a sigh Lily reached over to give his hand a quick squeeze. "I'll see you on Saturday." She looked up at him expectantly and for a moment he could not actually believe she was expecting him to… Here? Right now? In front of her friends?

Snape's hesitation evidently wore out her patience as Lily sighed dramatically and leaned in to quickly peck him on the cheek. Giggles burst forth along the table; even that seemingly reasonable Mary appeared to be grinning. The only girl who did not join the frivolity was McGonagall the younger, her nose still buried deep inside a difficult tome apparently without noticing any of the exchange.

For the past month, since the day he'd embarrassed himself by breaking down in front of her into a blubbering mess of mortifying tears, Lily had been trying to entice him into dating a lot more publically. He hadn't even been aware they had been doing it in secret, it just seemed like the polite thing to do to keep private affairs from becoming a public nuisance. However as of late, Lily had been very open about hugging and trying to kiss him in public, to his confusion, and many onlooker's revulsion. If he didn't know any better he'd have thought Lily was showing him off, but that seemed ridiculously unlikely.

He stood as Lily finally released him, his eyes not leaving hers. She smiled a shining smile, seemingly untouched by any of the doubts that peaked darkly from within his mind.

"Kiss her back," shrilled Susan, sending the table into another fit of giggles. Mocked by a gaggle of giggly teenaged girls. Fantastic…

With a scowl Snape turned away, stomping out of the bubble of silence, out the exit before he could draw the vulture's ire.

* * *

The moment Lily stepped through the door to the lab, she couldn't help the sensation that she stepped into a classroom. Beside his neatly placed cauldron and tools were the ingredients, arranged upon the desk in a clear and thoughtful manner, obviously in order of how they would be used in today's brewing session. A crutch she knew all too well, that Severus did not need.

Lily suddenly felt all too self-conscious about turning up out of uniform. This arrangement was her benefit, and he could not have designed it more like a lesson if he'd tried.

"Class is in session I see," she remarked jokingly, drawing a mild upturn of the lips from her often too stoic boyfriend.

"And I'm certainly glad you are not tardy," he remarked dryly, "else you might have given me an excuse to dock points from Gryffindor."

Lily grinned and rolled her eyes. He was becoming far more comfortable with her of late, his ability to snark at her symptomatic of these developments. When they were alone he no longer wallowed in discomfort, and though he always seemed a little reserved in their romantic interactions. In private, he would never deny her touch, or her kiss.

"My apologies, Professor Snape. Perhaps I could make up for it _after_ lessons." She tried her best suggestive tone with a giggle in her voice. But to her great exasperation, rather than play along Severus' amusement evaporated, going from mildly amused to distinctly uncomfortable in an instant.

Lily rolled her eyes. "I wasn't suggesting anything lewd," she muttered as Sev's eyes dropped from hers.

"No it wasn't… that." He cleared his throat and set about busying himself with the equipment, taking far longer setting up the burner than he would ever need.

Lily seated herself upon the conjured chair, tucking her brief annoyance to the back of her mind and preparing herself as she would an actual lesson.

"Let us begin then." With a swift motion he swept up a large bundle of flowered stalks and brought his knife down, separating the flowers neatly from the stalks at the base of the bulb, as well as amputating the roots. "Monkshood, or Wolfsbane, as you might have guessed, is the main ingredient of this potion."

His hands moved swiftly as he spoke, his silver knife flashing as it moved to part the veins smoothly from the stalks then cleaned them with quick but gentle strokes down their lengths. "After removing the debris from the vascular structures, we use them to tie off what is left of the stems of the flowers." He knotted the fiddley little chords finely, a well-practiced motion that boasted highly of his fine motor control. "We set these flowers into a jar to pickle. We don't touch these again until-"

"Day eleven. First dose," Lily recounted swiftly.

Severus' dark eyes glanced up with a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I had forgotten what it was like teaching someone competent," he muttered, his hands never stopped moving along their well-practiced paths.

"I'm sure you meant that as a compliment. But I'm having a hard time remembering when you've had to teach anyone other than me to brew," Lily remarked, smiling sweetly.

"Slytherins," he answered smoothly, eyes sliding back to the arduous task of sealing the lid over a brine jar.

He slid the jar into the corner on the shelf behind him, a space left clear for no doubt this very purpose, before he turned back to the table and finely diced the remains of the stems. With a swift scrape he deposited the contents into a mortar and pestle and proceeded to mince the contents.

"Hard to believe you've only made this twice," Lily muttered as her eyes followed the swiftness of the master potioneer. She couldn't help but admire how efficiently he was able to scrape the paste into the awaiting ceramic jar. Without pause he unstoppered a bottle of liquefied pork fat, smearing the rancid substance throughout the belly of the mortar until any of the left over stem mince was absorbed into the foul fats.

"Urgh." Lily couldn't help but recoil in disgust. This honestly was what she was looking forward to witnessing the least. The fact that she knew how much worse the smell would get only made things worse.

He whipped the runny oil, adding salt until it took on a thickened consistency, then with a flick of his wand he cooled the substance until it solidified into a white foamy crust, which he proceeded to scrape and fold upon itself until it took on an almost buttery consistency. With the scrape of a spatula, he removed the oil clot and scraped it over the paste jar, using it to form a moisture sealing layer. "We use this for later," he remarked. Lily nodded, trying to will the greenness from her face. "You'll need a stronger stomach than that if you hope to advance as a potioneer," Severus chastised as he lugged the cauldron over to the dragon-head faucet to be filled.

Lily tried her best not to take that remark too personally. They both knew, though out of the two of them he was the better potioneer, she was not that far behind, at the very least standing head and shoulders above her peers. A fact he rarely complimented, at least never as often as he criticised.

With a strength she never knew Severus had, he hoisted the filled cauldron back onto the table and set it carefully centred over the burner. He pointed his wand to the base of the cauldron causing flames to erupt, licking the full belly of the pewter vessel. With seemingly unnatural speed, Severus switched out for his silver knife, stowing his wand so quickly Lily hadn't even seen where he kept it.

He took the blade to the bulbous roots with a swift but deliberate motion, sliding it gently across the surface of the plant to expose the pale white flesh beneath. "You must take care when you peel these roots. This is where the toxins reside in large quantities."

"No cutting your fingers on this step. Check."

A hint of a smile graced Severus' face as he scraped the peeled and sliced roots into the cauldron, and pointed his wand to bring it quickly up to a boil. "We have a breathing space of about three minutes."

"Not exactly three minutes?" Lily asked with a raised eyebrow.

Severus' lips twitched in amusement. "The time window at this stage will not be as merciless. Nor as explosive."

The Gryffindor girl was not at all placated. "Regardless. Please set an alarm."

It took a moment but it dawned on Lily that Severus hadn't realised what she meant. It was likely he'd never owned his own timepiece before and hadn't known such a thing was possible. Lily leapt at the possibility of teaching him something.

"Like this, Sev." She stepped forward and lifted the sleeve of her jumper to reveal the little silver watch her father had bought her for her seventeenth birthday. She brought out her wand and tapped the tip in a flourishing display to the watch face. "Tempus Sonorus." she commanded, moving the time keeping alarm to just ten seconds into their future.

His dark eyes watched her curiously as her watch began chirping in a sharp shrill of alarm. With another touch of her wand it quietened, leaving the boy to ponder in silence the practical applications of this spell.

"How have you been keeping time for your potions up to this point?" Lily asked with genuine curiosity.

But instead of answering, he turned to his brew, uncapping the lid and turning down the flame. "Instinct," he finally answered as he pushed the stirring rod through the mixture, stirring the semi-opaque liquid with careful clockwise strokes.

Lily retreated to her seat, and settled back into her lesson. Watching the elegant display of potion mastery as Severus threw in a pinch of horse hair. "For isolating the animal instincts," he muttered, and then proceeded to shred Turmeric into thin threads not dissimilar to the white hairs floating about the surface of the brew. "We strain these out on day two."

He brought the slowly colouring brew to the boil again, stirring it in a smooth rhythmic motion as the liquid slowly turned from milky white into a bright cheerful orange.

"You might want to brace yourself," he warned as he uncapped the paste jar.

Lily set her jaw in pale determination.

* * *

"Where have you been Lily?" Susan's singsong voice was the first thing to greet Lily when she returned that evening. "Been _brewing_ with Severus all day?"

Exhausted and fatigued by prolonged exposure to that frankly stomach churning smell, and dreading the prospect of a second day spent like the last, Lily just couldn't find it in herself to deal with Susan at the moment. She was stiff and sore from sitting all day, her head hurt from what equated to ten hours straight of intense concentration, and she was certain she stank of that fetid brew, regardless of Severus' reassurances. Without so much of another word, Lily summoned her dressing gown and fished out a fresh change of undergarments, ignoring Susan's obnoxious "Ooooooh."

Marlene eyed her with concern from her own four poster bed, but made no motion to comment. They were running hot and cold with each other for over a month now, a usually amicable friendship turned instantly catty over the topic of Severus. They both now tread lightly around each other whenever this topic rears its head.

"I hope you took precautions, Lily." Mary suggested reasonably from her corner.

"Nothing happened!" the exhausted girl snapped. "We just brewed. Yes. All day."

With hands raised in a warding gesture, Mary quickly backed off. "Sure Lily." She fell silent for the briefest of moments before braving the obviously cranky girl by offering one last piece of advice. "Just throwing it out there, not for any particular reason. But first times are usually quite disastrous, and nobody should ever feel too dismayed with those results."

"Oh my god," Lily buried her face in her hands as Susan burst out into another round of shrill giggles.

"Hey, all I'm saying is don't judge him for these things. Only way he'll get better is with feedback and a little patience. These things come with experience."

"We weren't fornicating!" Lily snapped, her cheeks steadily taking on the same colour template as her hair.

"Yeah Lily ain't like that," Marlene joined in unexpectedly, standing from her bed in symbolic support.

"Nor is Severus," added Lily, pushing down on her annoyance.

Silence fell within the room, punctuated by another snort of amusement from Susan. "You can't seriously believe that," she giggled.

"And why not?" Lily demanded hotly, getting sick and tired of all these character attacks on her boyfriend. A man who just spent the last four months of his life brewing a brain aching, nose clogging, time consuming potion for someone he didn't even like. He was nobler than anyone she'd ever known, and none of her friends could get over their prejudice.

Mary chewed her lips, brows knitted together in apparent concern, while Marlene perched back on her bed, her eyebrows lost within her hairline. The smile on Susan's face, however, didn't falter one whit.

With a sigh of exasperation Lily snapped, "He's not like that." They didn't seem convinced.

"Not that I'm doubting your judgement Lily…" Mary began, obviously doubting Lily's judgement, "but umm… At this age all guys are like that."

Lily her eyes beseechingly to the ceiling. "Not all guys are like Sirius Black."

"Not all guys are like Sirius Black," Mary agreed. "Most are far more subtle about it."

Lily bristled. "Excuse me. Are you calling my Sev a closeted pervert?"

"We've been calling him that for years," Marlene muttered, throwing caution to the wind in the face of such unprecedented support.

"No offence intended." Mary reassured her, "No judgement either."

"Speak for yourself," Marlene muttered unkindly.

"Oh, leave him alone," Lily muttered as she massaged her temples, every reasonable thought was telling her to abandon this conversation and go cool her head in the shower. Unfortunately, she listened to her head about as much any Gryffindor did.

"I mean, he's not even said anything remotely obscene to me." She didn't know why she continued to defend this course when she honestly knew there was no way he could be. Not with a few kisses they had shared in private, there were certainly a few moments that was far more intimate than others. "I mean he gets embarrassed when I say something obscene." She reddened and quickly backpedalled. "As in he thought I said something obscene… I didn't do it on purpose of course."

"Of course," Mary quickly agreed.

Marlene rolled her eyes, "He's a Slytherin, obviously he'd be subtle about it."

"Or. He could be a really decent guy," Lily retorted hotly.

"If he's not keen on jumping you then why would he pursue anything more than friendship?" Marlene reasoned savagely, "Bet he's got off imagining you naked, you probably held that very hand the next morning."

Lily was glowing red, incensed by both mortification and anger. "And I'll bet you're just dying to have James do that to you!"

"Well he's not, because he's still bleedin' hung up on you!"

The silence that suddenly fell over them was weighed down with an expanding horror of realisation of what was just said aloud. Lily curled in upon herself in shame when her best friend, reddened then immediately blanched as she glanced about the room in growing horror.

They both caught sight of the indelible gossip Susan, hands pressed across her lips in a show of shock, when really it was to hide the tasteless grin she struggled to hide. With a twinge of guilt, Lily snuck out of the room, leaving Marlene to face the onslaught of tittering giggles.

* * *

Snape approached Alchemy class with a stone in hand, and questions on his lips.

"A complete copper Focus Stone." Flamel exclaimed with a clap of his hands. "Wonderful. What memory did you use?"

 _Facing death._ "A very difficult encounter." Snape replied, visibly annoyed. "Why had you told me it was a memory of calm when it was a memory of courage I needed?"

"Not courage. Strength." The ancient professor corrected. "You mistook my story of facing adversity with calm as a literal reflection, when you should have read deeper into the situation. It took a lot of strength to resist the urge to jab my wand in his eye. That procrastinating Italian brat."

Snape scowled as he settled into his seat. "Yet, had you told me that condition specifically rather than spin a fanciful tale of overcoming your urge to murder, I would not have taken over a month to succeed." It was like stepping back four months to the period of his frustrations and failures.

"You did take rather long," the professor agreed with a stroke of his beard. "But this is something you simply had to understand for yourself." He leaned forward and clasped his hands in a gesture of patience. "Memories are the cornerstone of modern alchemy. I need you to understand that experiencing things is more important to the alchemist than learning it from a textbook or teacher. This is why so many young alchemists choose to set out on a grand tour of the world, a journey of discovery if you might, before settling into their crafts. The more unique experiences one has, the more you can advance in this craft. Why, even the young Albus set off on his journey of discovery, in his own form and fashion, never indulging too much at once and never for too long away."

Snape listened to this fanciful notion with the ear of a practical man with near to no means. That was a lovely option for anyone who could actually afford it, or didn't have any pressing concerns of the war looming in the horizon. No. He could not afford such a frivolous method of learning, but he might not need to. As far as unique experiences went, Snape felt quite certain he possessed some that no alchemist could ever boast of. Not even the ancient Flamel.

For how many living could boast that they had met death?

"Have you noticed a difference using this new stone?" he asked, with an all too knowing smile.

This had indeed been another point Snape had intended to raise. "I had noticed that the transmutative process proved far easier with the stone I had created." But that didn't seem a likely observation, that a stone created by a novice alchemist could outstrip one from the likes of Albus Dumbledore. Snape had thought that perhaps his own observation had been incorrect owing to his propensity to being partial to his own efforts.

"You are not imagining things, Mr Snape," Flamel confirmed his doubtful suspicions. "There is a reason why alchemists tend to favour stones created by themselves. It is because a stone is as unique to its creator as the memory used to create it. Our own human empathy ensures we can sympathise with another, but never truly know what it is to walk their path. As is the limits in our ability to use another's stone."

Snape's brows knitted together as he digested this new concept. "So, would having similar experiences to the memories forged into the stone improve one's ability to use it?"

"Perhaps. Your guess is as good as anyone's. For who amongst the living can boast of an experience truly unique?" Flamel's lips turned in a most inscrutable smile. "Well then Mr Snape. We will be working on theory during class for the rest of the year. I understand the exams are coming up and that alchemy is simply to be a written one?"

"First I heard of it," Snape replied, a little annoyed his practical education only took him this far. He was still no closer to understanding how he could possibly go about finding a way to transmute Basilisk Venom.

Professor Flamel appeared none too bothered by his student's less than eager countenance and summoned his own book from off-mirror. "I think we should take this moment to go over the remarkable little stone within your alchemy kit. The main reason for its steep price, did you know?"

"I did not," Snape admitted as he glanced down at the unassuming beige pebble.

"I assume an industrious student like you would have already tested your stone in every way available to you," continued Flamel with a light tone and an approving smile. "Now tell me what you've discovered of its capabilities."

Snape spoke as he was bade, "Though I believe copper to still be its main element, it is by no means restricted. From Chromium to copper, everything towards the centre of that row of the Periodic Table is well within the realm of its abilities. The elements that diverge from that grouping became gradually more difficult to transmute, with a sharp drop off in product yield by each row down, reflected by their weight and stability as an element."

"Like a textbook," the Professor nodded in approval. Making Snape cringe at the thought of being described like an insufferable know-it-all. "This is why I wish you to reconsider my request for you to attend the International Alchemical Conference this Saturday."

Snape scowled, hating to be forced to rehash this topic. "And as I have already said, I can ill afford a trip to Africa."

"After what you have pioneered for the field Mr Snape, I doubt sponsorship would be difficult to obtain," Flamel urged, "and I feel ill at ease presenting your discovery without you present."

"I am sorry to disappoint you sir, but public speaking is an idea repulsive to me." Snape ducked his head, glowering at the thought of such loathsome attention. Teaching a classroom of feckless inconsequential children was one thing, but being judged by his peers in an area Snape was certainly not a master of, was not something he wished to experience. He could already taste the condescension directed at his tattered clothes, and disillusion of his less than complete knowledge of the subject.

With a sigh the ancient alchemist leaned back in his cushioned seat, regarding the young man beyond the mirror with his ancient golden eyes. "Alas. I am defeated." Still smiling rather kindly. "I can only hope that as you age, you develop a sense of adventure, so that in your advancing years you may finally reach your alchemical potential."

Snape lowered his head in respectful acknowledgement, knowing all too well he would never find the time nor motivation to become an experience seeker.

* * *

Friday's Daily Prophet brought alarming news to all. Though Snape had no means to afford a direct ear to the news, there was no need to seek it on this day, for that was all everyone would speak about all along the meal tables and throughout the corridors.

With a sudden and violent attack upon a taskforce of Aurors, the Death Eater blight took to the fore. The war that had been raging in the shadows for years had emerged calamitously into the light. It was hard not to remember that he held information that could have prevented this from happening. Information Dumbledore had chosen not to act on. A sacrifice for the greater good. A guilt to be borne by hardened men, so that more would ultimately survive.

"They say one of victims was Logan Folbage. Wasn't he like, the best?"

"Dad says Mad Eye's better. But Folbage is a close second, crazy to think he's dead."

That was the subject of all the conversations throughout the student circles, and a hard topic to miss as a member of the student circle. It made Snape realise exactly how much he missed as a Professor, and as the most hated Headmaster in the history of the school.

The concern had even touched Lily, in a way Snape couldn't quite get a handle on. Her worry had reared its esoteric head a time before this war to come had loomed into reality, something that had bothered her enough that the dread of the war had not changed her countenance visibly. This was simply how she dealt with a niggling worry, internalising her fears until they resolved, or became too much for her and it all came pouring to the fore in unexpected ways.

The last time this happened their friendship ended.

This time at least, it wasn't his fault, at least not to his knowledge. Snape hadn't said or done anything notable within his own mind to warrant worry, and indeed it certainly appeared that her ire hadn't been directed at him. In fact, there seemed to be a drastic increase in the time allocated to him. Her presence had suddenly become an expected daily occurrence, even without the Wolfsbane observation exercise. She would engage him for meaningless perambulations, and during study time in the library she would purposefully choose to sit with him, and exclusively so throughout the week. It was honestly a concession Snape had been all too willing to make, and all too eager to encourage.

However, contentment too had a limit it seemed, and he could not in good conscience abandon his responsibilities over pleasure. After all, the war had begun in true, and she had been one of its victims. The scars of guilt that branded him from his past life had, at the very least, taught him that actions committed through bitterness would follow him beyond the grave. A lesson of which he was heedful, if not grateful to have learned.

Snape could no longer wait to be taught to begin his experimentations, not with the first shots of the looming war fired, the first of many atrocities to come. He could no longer put off his assigned task.

With the Wolfsbane potion tucked securely on the shelf behind him, Snape turned his attention to his borrowed alchemy table. With deliberate care, he set various vials of snake venom before him, arranged by type and effects.

From what little biological transmutation he'd already practiced, he understood the more closely related the product is to starting point, the easier it was to transmute. For plants there needed to be a biological similarity, such as for Asphodel and Xanthorrhoea, two specimens from the same Family but different Subfamily and Genus.

However, confusingly, animal products such as the proteins of snake venom appeared to operate on a completely different method. They had not yet worked up to that point, and from reading ahead in the Syllabus, he understood at some point he was supposed to transmute bear bile to bat bile. Two animals who were definitely not of the same family. From what he could understand from the comprehensive, but frankly, ill-compiled texts, animal product transmutation for potion substitution worked when samples were biochemically similar.

Unfortunately, at no point in the curriculum would he be made to work with produce from magical creatures. It appeared alchemy had levels beyond that of standard education, likely it had a post-graduate learning component as well, similar to the Potioneering Masterclass he had once undertaken in another life. From what he understood, alchemy operated more as an apprenticeship, rather than a training certification.

Cracking open his ancient tome, Snape turned the delicate pages slowly to the topic, scowling at the absurd spelling of a time before standardised English became a thing. In his search for answers, he had been forced to browse some of the more obscure titles in alchemy, many of which titled back centuries. For whatever reason, the only text the Hogwarts Library stocked on the topic regarding this apparently highly exclusive topic of alchemy had not been updated since the school's conception.

The war was only beginning, the first notes of a black stain upon the history to come. So much of it rode squarely upon his own ability to recall these times, and so much more upon Albus Dumbledore. If he could play even but a small part to bring about its closing all the sooner, then perhaps some measure of his damnation could be laid to rest.

In this world that had never seen the worst of him, his misdeeds stood accountable to only himself.

The last man to know forgiveness…

* * *

A/N: Merry belated Christmas dear viewers, and a Happy New Year yet to come! May this fic continue to entertain you for the year to come.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Friday 12th January 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 25: Enemies in their Midst**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	25. Enemies in their Midst

**Chapter 25: Enemies in their Midst**

Marlene would not forgive her, no matter how many times Lily apologised. True to Susan's form the rumours of her crush on James spread throughout the school, manifesting as common room chatter and unwelcomed remarks.

Lily was almost thankful when the dreadful news of the Death Eater attacks overwhelmed the rumour mill, and Marlene's private affairs fell quickly from public eye. But it appeared that thoughtless comments flung in the midst of anger were not something quickly forgotten and forgiven.

Vexingly even Severus, a boy who revelled in their time spent together, appeared to take a step back. He had shut himself in the lab since Friday afternoon, citing schoolwork. True, exams were right around the corner, but Lily hadn't thought he needed to allocate any more time to the activity considering how often she was already vying for his attention with the library. Indeed, more than half their time spent together had been among those towering shelves, sitting in oppressive silence as they completed their Charms homework together. All in all, not the most romantic setting for dates.

But all this came during a time when she needed him to be there. When personal uncertainty rankled her, and the atmosphere of her peers seeped of anxiety and dread. Anxiety and dread that she shared in equal and irrefutable measures, for war against her kind was coming, and she appeared to be suddenly bereft of a best friend's reassurance, or mutual worry.

She wanted Marlene or Sev to keep company with her, or preferably both, maybe even at the same time. And while she was fantasising, why not also have them look past each other's grievances and make friends as well. But at the moment that was about as likely as Marlene voluntarily striking up a conversation with her.

It was Saturday, a day usually reserved for sleeping in for the Gryffindors. Lily had gotten up before Marlene and waited in the room for her best friend to rouse, just to find opportunity to apologise again. Unfortunately as soon as her posters parted, Marlene took one look at her awaiting friend and marched out of the room without a word.

Angry and more than a little upset, Lily made her way down to breakfast to dine with the stragglers, mostly at the Gryffindor table. She wasn't even surprised to find Marlene seated all the way at the opposite end of the long table, going well out of her way to avoid her friend, status pending.

Lily was understandably upset by meal's end, and found herself halfway down the dungeon steps before she was even consciously aware of where her feet was taking her. Her mind roiling with fiery indignation, interjected with sparks of level-headed cooling. She broke her silence on her best friend's secret in the worst possible way. In a fit of rage, right in front of the worst gossip since Petunia Evans.

By the time she knocked on the laboratory door, Lily couldn't help but feel like a wretched friend and the cold shoulder was the least she deserved.

"Enter," commanded the deep voice of Severus Snape, and Lily did as she was beckoned, wondering if any of the surprise on Sev's face was in regard to how crappy she must look. This crisis was eating into her sleep and subsequently, her mental health; the shadows under her eyes would soon be rivalling his.

"I had not expected you till this evening. The Wolfsbane doesn't require any care until then," he said with a smile as he quickly stood, dispelling any illusions Lily might have about his positive change of character bringing with it a basic grasp of human emotions. He honestly was as dumb as a rock when it came to social cues, or emotional cues, or anything that wasn't spelled out to him really.

But honestly it was nice to see him smiling. He must be having fun… studying. One of the few people that genuinely could. Lily didn't want her terrible day to ruin his. "Carry on," she encouraged with a smile, wondering how strained it would look to a person with a normal grasp of human emotions. "I just wanted to watch."

His eyebrows knitted together. "Are you sure? I'm not doing anything terribly interesting." Good to know he'd at least developed an empathetic understanding that schoolwork is not inherently fun to a normal person. From the looks of the vials of mystery liquids and complex runic diagrams, he had been working hard on alchemy again.

Gathering up her skirts, Lily hefted herself onto a stool before Sev could get it into his head to conjure her an unnecessary seat, and propped her elbows onto his benchtop. "C'mon Sev. Wow me," she half-jokingly demanded.

He glanced down at his work, then up at her again, seeming to hesitate. "Well…" he began, then shook his head, quickly bustling over to, for whatever reason, stow away his diagrams. "I'm running experiments," he muttered, strangely evasively.

"Up to the experimentation stage already?" Lily asked, uncertain as to why he seemed so reluctant to share his dissertations. He was usually very forthcoming to her about his work, and proudly so.

Well, at least the old Severus had been. Maybe excess humbleness was another change in his nature.

With a small huff of breath, he deposited himself onto his stool, somehow managing to maintain posture whilst visibly slumping. "Experimenting, and failing," he admitted finally. "It appears one year of practical training was not enough to set me properly upon this path. I am beginning to seriously doubt how two years would make the difference."

"Look at you. Already thinking about next year," Lily mumbled with a roll of her eyes. "While the rest of us are still struggling to comprehend how we'll survive the next month."

"Finals," Sev acknowledged with a nod. "Is that what's been bothering you?"

Lily startled. He noticed? She hadn't expected him to notice. The old Sev never would have noticed.

"Because if it is, I can dedicate a little time reviewing each topic with you," he continued, seemingly oblivious to the fact that Severus Snape was supposed to be as emotionally empathetic as a block of wood.

"Umm… no," Lily began with an uncertain frown. "I mean, that sounds great. I'd love to revise for exams with you, but no. That's not what's bothering me."

He sat silent for a moment, his expression slowly bleeding from his face until his eyes lay blank. "What is it?" He asked in a monotone, a voice that stroked a strange disquiet within Lily's heart.

"If you… If you really want to know. Can we go somewhere to talk privately?" Lily knew the lab was the best place for privacy, but what she was really after was some physical contact without breaking lab rules. She really needed a hug.

Surprisingly he did not argue this point. He stood without a word and strode to the door. Lily followed behind, trying not to think too hard about how accommodating he acted, or be too bothered about how different Severus had become.

* * *

Huddled together in the darkened first floor alcove, Lily was distinctly aware of the gap left between them as she and Severus sat side by side. It was a strange revert to contact awkwardness for Sev, and it was making her wonder if she was going to get her hug today. There was an air of skittishness about his demeanour, a throwback to the opening weeks of their relationship.

It was almost like he expected her gripe to be about him.

"Should I preface this by saying you're not in trouble?" Lily offered with amused exasperation, and more so when Severus visibly deflated with relief.

"That would be very helpful. Thank you," he replied, absolutely sincere. It was hard not to find his quirks of polite social ineptitude adorable.

Lily smiled as she leaned back against the chilled stone, feeling the coolness seeping through the thin cotton of her button up blouse. The thick woollen sweaters of her casual wear had been discarded in the face of warming spring days. Mufti was common on weekends, and despite dress rules stating uniforms had to be worn at the great halls when partaking meals, nobody could really be bothered getting changed specifically for those intervals. And for the most part, the professors and prefects turned a blind eye to the liberties taken in this regard.

Severus however never participated, sticking rigidly to the uniform code every day of the school year. It took a long time for Lily to realise he chose to do so out of necessity, and not principle. Of his limited possessions, he owned not a single article of clothing that fit him correctly. Compounded upon the risk of flouting muggle roots, he would much rather stick to a single rotation of ratty robes, rather than reveal the extent his destitution reached.

The robes he wore now had been with him since his first year. Purchased in three sizes too large from the Second-Hand Robes store in Diagon Alley, it had been patched and extended countless times until the fabric itself was so thin and starched it looked a faded grey in the light, hanging off him awkwardly, and still too short in the limbs. Everything about him had been an injury to common human dignity, yet somehow, he bore it all with admirable fortitude. At least this was the case in recent months.

It was nearly impossible to look at Sev now and see that slouching, scowling boy whose demeanour was as coarse as his upbringing. Who swore as casually and colourfully as an Australian sailor, and the manners of one to boot. But most importantly his way of thinking seemed to be no longer tainted by those disgusting pure blood ideals. Whatever had happened, in those six months apart, had changed him so entirely that Lily couldn't imagine this was the same boy she had lost so many nights of sleep in worry over.

This same boy who, despite his handicap in that area, had just made an effort of empathy for her benefit. A clumsily executed attempt, but appreciated.

He watched her now with those dark patient eyes, quietly waiting for her to unload her woes. Eyes that were growing more confused by the second as Lily could not help that little smile that seeped onto her tired anxious face. A smile only meant for him.

"I should start at the beginning," Lily began with a sigh, feeling that knot fly up to her throat once more, choking away her smile. "One of my friends… isn't keen on you." He gave one single wordless nod of acknowledgement, seeming not at all surprised. "She… had a lot to say about our relationship. I honestly don't see how it's any of her business really, and I told her that. I really did." His lips twitched as if to smile. "But… this time when we argued. I lost my temper, and I took a close kept secret of hers and flung it in her face. In front of witnesses." His face remained blank, whether it was in reserve of judgement or inability to comprehend the social implications of such a faux pas, she could not tell. "One thing lead to another, and now the whole school knows." Lily dropped her head in shame.

A hand laid gently upon her back, a comforting empathetic gesture, something she would have never expected from the old Sev. A testament to how much he had changed himself for the better, how he deserved this chance that nobody else was willing to give.

Lily felt that knot in her throat tighten and blinked back the tears that stung her eyes. "I mean I didn't mean to betray her." The words poured from her like an unstoppered torrent. "I was just so angry. I wasn't thinking. Those words just slipped out, and now I fear I might have lost my best friend!"

Sev's eyebrows flew together. "Best friend?"

Lily could not help that bark of weary laughter. "Figures that's what you'd pick up."

"Was I not your best friend?"

Good to know he still kept his streak of contextually ridiculous jealousy. "The position was vacant. You've technically been promoted have you not?" Lily asked a little sourly. Severus' darkening expression immediately cleared up, contrition painted across his face.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I wasn't… I hadn't been accusing…"

His apologetic murmur was stirring up Lily's guilt. There was a manipulative half-truth if there ever was one. "Don't be," she sighed. "She's been my best friend since summer. I just never got around to telling you."

He fell silent, when the previous Severus would have gotten angry. Upon his face was a gentle discontent, a far cry from his outbursts and tantrums. "… Understandable," he muttered, his understanding the strangest point of all.

Lily couldn't help but smile. "Okay. Who are you and what have you done to Severus?" She asked jokingly. His eyes darkened momentarily before a weak smile cracked forth upon his stark countenance. But slowly she felt her smile slip away as reality came crushing down again, forcing her to look away and get a handle on her emotional bearings. She had regained Severus only to have lost Marlene. Why was life so unfair?

That hand returned to brace upon her back, turning in a gentle soothing circle with a calibre of awkwardness that was always familiar to Severus. His body shifted over too, his slender form pressed against her side as they sat thigh to thigh. He always learned quickly, and though he might not empathetically understand, he somehow still knew his proximity offered comfort to her.

"It's all my fault," Lily continued, suppressing a shuddering sob. "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that. I shouldn't have said what I said."

She felt his hand hesitate upon her back, a telling stillness that seized him but briefly before he shifted his hand once more in that gentle rhythm. "She does not wish to hear your apologies." It was not a question, but a statement.

"Yeah," Lily confirmed through the lump in her throat. "No matter how many times I try."

Silence again, contemplative but heavy. Severus did not still however, seeming to settle into a strange rhythmic calm. "Perhaps then, it is not what you say that matters to her, but how you say it."

Lily could not help that bark of laughter that forced its way from her knotted throat. "That's oddly specific advice you're giving. Yet again, who are you and what have you done with Sev?"

She felt a rumble in his ribcage from the side pressed against her, a silent laughter from this boy who rarely smiled. "I offer only what I know. And in the end it wasn't my apology that brought me forgiveness."

Lily stiffened then, his hand stilled, feeling the sudden change in her demeanour. "What? But…" She glanced up to meet his eyes. "This isn't like that." _This isn't at all._ While her dissatisfaction with Severus and his conduct had been building up for months prior to that breaking point, she and Marlene had only been fighting for less than a month. Over Severus of all people, and not in the love-triangle sort of way. They weren't fighting over the fouling of each other's conduct; there hadn't been any lingering bad feelings after each negative encounter. It had just about that one bad incident. That one breach of friendship and trust.

Severus glanced away, his expression blank. "I speak of only what I understand of your story," he offered in a muted tone. "I apologise if my assessment was incorrect."

"I appreciate your effort," Lily murmured as she reached her arms about him and buried her face into his bony side. She felt his arm slip about her shoulder, he twisted awkwardly in her grasp to return the hug.

They sat together in silence, locked in that uncomfortable embrace, but Lily didn't care. She wanted this hug, no matter which form it took. After a moment she felt him shift in her arms. His expanding ribs that pressed against her cheekbones seemed to struggle with shallowing of breath as she felt the vibrations of a silent swallow. An action that had not succeeded in clearing his throat, she could still hear the catch in his voice when he spoke.

"If I may. Lily…" he mumbled, voice oddly thick for the practicality he offered. "Even if the situation is not entirely identical… perhaps you would still benefit from heeding a Slytherin's advice?"

"I'm listening," she muttered into his ribs. He squirmed from the vibrations of her voice. She never knew he was ticklish.

"Opportunity," he muttered, though from the sound of his voice it appeared to be a titanic effort on his part. "That is what you are lacking. No matter how truly repentant you are, if she refuses to believe it, it will never be known if not for opportunity's favour."

"Experience speaking again?" Lily asked, lifting her eyes curiously from his dull fabric.

He looked away as he answered, "If not for opportunity, you would have never forgiven me."

"That wasn't exactly opportunity though," Lily muttered. "You genuinely changed."

He turned to her, his dark eyes hidden by the gloom and his sunken sockets. "Do you believe the meaning of opportunity is chance without effort?" She frowned back, uncertain of his meaning. "Words can only reach so far to a heart unwilling to take them. No matter your remorse, Lily, it is actions that are noticed in the end. Create your opportunity."

Lily could not help the smirk that touched her lips, as his words touched her heart. "Was that how it went down? A planned opportunity?" she teased lightly.

She felt him stiffen in her grasp, but then slowly relax as his mind unpacked her playful tone. "Had I known that was the correct path forward… perhaps I would have," he confessed.

"And I'm glad you did," Lily murmured, burying her face in his side again. "Otherwise I'd have nobody to hug in the dark when Marlene gets mad at me."

She felt his fingers trail down her hair. A comforting stroking motion that made her close her eyes and sink bodily into him. He wasn't wearing his heating charm today, yet he was still so very warm to the touch. She could feel his body heat seeping through his thin robes.

"Thanks Sev. For today," she murmured. "For listening. And for your advice. I'll try to approach this in a little more Slytherin manner."

She felt his movements cease, his chest vibrate again from a suppressed swallow. "Glad to have been of assistance," he muttered thickly.

"Well you're not just a pretty face," she teased, eliciting a raised eyebrow response from her unamused boyfriend.

She felt his arms withdraw then, as he attempted to disengage with her. In response she held on all the tighter, grinning as she felt him squirm beneath her grasp. He could easily pry her off if he wanted to, Sev was much stronger than he looked. But he didn't even try.

"I got you where I want you. You're not getting away from me that easily," she teased, enjoying the amusing flailing she teased out of him.

"Umm… Lily," he muttered thickly, his entire body tensed as if he wished nothing more than to bolt. She could hear his heartbeat straining against his thin chest, beating so fast that it sounded like the thrum of a humming bird's wings.

He laid his hands upon her shoulders, she could feel his hot palms through the fabric of her blouse. She felt him bend outwards, trying to physically dissociate himself form her. His body drawing away from her clinging contact, his long black hair draped over her shoulder as he did so, his uneven hot breaths seeping through her hair and tickling her neck.

"Lily, I don't-think-" he began, his weak voice cut off as she pulled him down to meet her lips.

An audacious kiss that stilled him suddenly and stole the protests from his lips. She felt his tenseness bleed away as she moved her lips against his. She smiled as she felt him respond, suddenly losing all his keenness to get away.

He pressed hungrily forward, but without the haste of their first kiss. His ability to learn quickly served him practically in this field too it seemed. His lips moved without hesitation, finding the contours of her own.

His arms were about her again, his fingers tangled through her hair as he pressed her against him, his other hand trailing up her waist. She broke the kiss to giggle as she swatted at his cheeky attempt to cop-a-feel, his lips curling upwards against hers in response.

She released him from her restraining embrace to bring her hands to his chest in a mirroring response, her fingers trailing along his collar bone through his thin robes. He did not flinch away as she thought he would, instead leaning in to her touch.

His demeanour shifted suddenly, his lips locking hers suddenly and fiercely. His intensity caught her off guard as her hands scrambled to find purchase, alighting upon his shoulder, and one pressed firmly against his chest.

She lost track of where his hands were, feeling them darting about her body. She withdrew, trying to regain control of this wildly escalating make-out session to little avail. His lips found hers again, unrelenting in his kiss.

He suddenly hoisted her onto his knees, she gripped his forearms in alarm as she felt him try to manoeuvre her into a compromising position. She felt the rising redness on the back of her neck, his lips were prevented hers from forming a polite protest. She pulled on his hair, but that only seemed to encourage his passions. His hand slid back down around her waist, causing her heart to leap to her throat.

His hand was directly against her skin.

Lily leapt off his knees, flinging his arms away as she quickly pulled the folds of her shirt together. He had somehow gotten the buttons undone in the heated confusion.

He sat watching her, his confusion slowly morphing into abject horror as Lily scrambled to re-button her blouse.

"I wasn't trying to…" she muttered through her mortification. "I'm not ready to-"

But before she could finish her explanation, Severus was no longer there. Leaving Lily alone in the gloom with her glowing embarrassment.

* * *

The noise of the common room was a welcome return to familiarity for Lily. Not even the hushed whisperings of the dark, disheartening news could repulse her at this moment. She just wanted somewhere she could blend in to distract her from her roiling thoughts.

 _Mary was right_. She thought with chagrin. How could she have been so silly as to have thought otherwise? Wasn't that the direction all relationships went? What exactly was she expecting? That this was just a continuation of their close friendship but with a lot more cuddling and kissing?

But what was he expecting? They'd only been dating for three months, there was no way she would be ready for something like that. It was quite the shock. She hadn't expected him to misinterpret the situation so completely, or charge ahead so quickly.

Lily glowed red, suddenly. Any thoughts in that direction sending her mind awhirl and her stomach in flight. Perhaps it was wiser of her to take refuge in her room behind the posters of her bed where nobody could witness her kaleidoscope of colours.

With her head down, Lily hurried out of the common room, alighting the staircase up into the girl's dormitory, breathing a sigh of relief when she reached her room and shut the door.

But she wasn't alone.

"Welcome back." Mary's even voice greeted her from her bed, a textbook laying open on her bed as she lounged. Finals was coming within a month's time and the less cruisy of the student body had been set hard into study mode. Most chose the library or the study halls as their temple of knowledge, but Mary had always been one to read on her side.

"Hey Mary," Lily mumbled back the greeting, keeping her head down and shuffling quickly to her own bed.

That got the girl's attention. She looked up from her thick tome, her fingers paused lazily on the ears of the page. "Lily?" She frowned with concern, no doubt noticing the glowing red of her cheeks.

"Just a slight fever," Lily lied. "Comes with the seasonal change. No big deal."

Mary nodded, not looking the least convinced, concern still etched upon her brow. She shifted over and patted the spot beside her. "Want to talk about it?"

 _Yes._ Said her eager confusion. _No._ Screamed her mortification.

Lily strode quickly to her bed, pulling open the curtains, eager to dive out of the public eye. Instead she found Achilles glaring challengingly from her sheets, not looking like he intended to move any time soon. She told herself that it was a good enough reason to change her mind, she was not eager to get into another losing fight with that cat, on top of everything that had happened. In reality she was probably looking for any excuse to accept Mary's invitation.

"Yes," Lily finally relented in a small voice. She slunk over to Mary's bed and kicked off her shoes, settling upon the space provided and sinking onto the thick goose down doona. A small encouraging smile touched Mary's lips as she sat back and waited for Lily to offer the tale of her tabulations. She was always a comforting, non-judgemental soul.

"It's umm… About Severus." she began, feeling a small knot of guilt over talking candidly about him. He was a very private person. But Mary wasn't one to gossip. She might even be the only one able to offer her advice in this regard. "We had a… miscommunication."

Mary frowned. "Somehow I don't think you mean 'fight.'"

"Umm no." Lily struggled briefly with embarrassment. "It was… umm…" With titanic effort she blurted it out, overly bluntly, "You were right. He is a pervert."

Mary almost flinched. "Oh no. He didn't…?"

Without waiting for another prompt, Lily blurted it all out. Starting from her miring concerns for Marlene and ending with that frisky blunder of epic proportions. "-And then he ran away before I could say a thing!"

But rather than continue the direction of her silent worry, Mary actually appeared to look relieved. A direct opposite to how Lily felt. "For a moment there I actually feared things might have been more serious than it is," Mary stated, looking pleased and actually having the gall to smile.

"It is serious!" Lily insisted, unable to conceive how anyone could think this isn't the most serious situation she could find herself in.

With a comforting hand on her shoulder, Mary asked solemnly, "He stopped the moment you asked him to, right?"

"He certainly didn't try again when I leapt from his arms and squawked like a parrot," Lily huffed.

Mary grinned and clapped her hands. "Then all in all things went quite well, didn't it?"

Lily could only stare in disbelief, her usually adept mind not following Mary's leap of logic in the slightest. "Come again?"

"Well I mean… what was so terrible about all that?" Mary asked in her unreasonably reasonable way. "You got a little embarrassed. He got a little embarrassed. Nobody got hurt. It isn't too different to how a standard first experience goes really."

The foreign concept swirled about Lily's mind. The reddening of her cheeks receded, but the confusion stayed. Mary leaned in and tried again. "Do you plan to dump him over this?"

"What? No!" Lily shook her head vigorously. He was as much a victim as she was.

With a sigh and a smile, Mary shrugged. "No harm, no foul then. Nothing's changed."

Slowly, Lily calmed. Her mortification softened by a dose of perspective. Mary was right, nothing terrible had actually happened. He ceased all action the moment he realised she did not intend upon this course. All that had changed is that Lily had a newfound respect for Severus' personal space.

With a deep relenting sigh, Lily finally pulled herself together. "Thanks, Mary. I needed that." She reached over and enveloped her wise friend in a hug. Female friends were at least tactilely uncomplicated.

"Any time, honey." Mary replied with a squeeze. "Don't ever think any problem is too taboo to speak to me about, alright?"

* * *

Even with her thoughts settled, Lily balked at the thought of going down to the labs so soon. They could both use some time to cool off.

Besides, during the middle portion of the Wolfsbane, the steps were exactly the same every evening, and she had already spent a week watching it. She was pretty certain she had this part of the potion memorised.

No, tonight was dedicated to her original crisis, Crisis Prime if you will.

Lily had not seen Marlene since breakfast, and she had not returned to the tower all day. No doubt she was avoiding all forms of Gryffindor life, waiting for this whole affair to blow over. She was returning late these days, sneaking in a little after curfew and slinking behind her posters before anyone could notice her.

Not tonight. Tonight, Lily was determined to ambush her before she dove behind her privacy screens and could fake deep slumber.

Opportunity, Sev had advised. Opportunity that had to be pursued, not awaited.

Lily sat herself by the door with a textbook in hand, eyes flickering to the portrait hole whenever it swung open. The noise in the common room had diminished to a low buzzing, it was actually almost possible to study. Unfortunately, Lily could not muster the concentration to utilise the textbook for more than just a front. This year was going to be her spottiest exam season yet.

At the very least she was giving her books a go. Most of her housemates hadn't felt the urgency yet. And there was little wonder, with what had just happened with the Aurors. Gryffindors didn't often openly admit fear, but there was no other way of describing this atmosphere of uncertainty. Lily was almost thankful that she had enough issues of her own to distract her. If left to her own devices she was certain the fear and uncertainty would have gotten to her too.

But that, honestly, was very little consolation. She just wanted everything to normalise as soon as possible. Though the world was much larger than just the dramas of school, as a mere student she just wanted her friends back by her side, the strife of the world be damned.

In her troubled, high strung state, a voice in her ear made her heart leap from her chest. "Hey Lily. Got a minute?" James asked, and Lily almost dropping her textbook in surprise.

"Y-yeah?" She turned, trying to send up her most nonchalant smile.

Without another follow up question, James deposited himself into the armchair opposite, a serious expression on his usually relaxed face. "Have you seen Marlene?"

"Not since breakfast," Lily answered truthfully, not at all looking forward to where this conversation was going.

A frown twisted upon James' fair face. "She didn't turn up for practice."

Her heart dropped. Marlene never missed practice. As irresponsible as she seemed with her schoolwork, Marlene would never skive off Quidditch. Especially not with the House cup match against Ravenclaw at the end of this month.

"This isn't like her," Lily muttered, gnawing at her lips with concern.

James nodded solemnly, before seeming to hesitate. "Have you… heard of these… rumours going about?"

"Which ones?" Lily asked, making a dive for the innocence fort out of instinct. Of all the rumours floating around, which one would James approach her with really?

"Of… Umm… Marlene," he muttered, dispelling any hope of a less stressful and confusing afternoon. "I mean, I just thought. Perhaps that was… the reason…"

Lily sighed, feeling the prickle of guilt in her gut. "Yeah. I know which ones you mean."

"Alright..." James nodded, trailing off. "What do you think about it?"

That wasn't the kind of question she expected from a concerned captain. Lily sighed, fingers flying to her temple in an attempt to massage her growing headache away. "She's my best friend, James."

"I know. I know. And I just thought, if anyone knew what to make of these rumours it'd be you." He quickly back pedalled, "I mean, it's affecting her right? She hasn't turned up to practice. That's not like her."

"Why are you interested?" Lily asked, a sudden spark of inspiration had struck her. Opportunity, Sev had said.

A surprisingly awkward expression touched James' usually confident demeanour. "Umm. I mean. I am Quidditch Captain. I should be… concerned."

This was a risky moment for Lily she realised. She didn't want to make things worse for Marlene by confirming her interests to a disinterested James, but if she could make this work, then maybe there was forgiveness in her future.

"First of all James, I'm not the one you should be talking to," she began, already imagining how messy a sudden confrontation between the two could get. Especially if Marlene wasn't ready to confess for herself and James was more curious than keen. "Secondly, what if the answer is yes? Not saying that it is, but what if? What will you do then?"

Apparently, these points had not been the object of the Gryffindor boy's thoughts when he had first approached her. He blanched and sunk into the armchair, appearing to shrink into the cushions. "Umm," was all he said.

Lily did not relent. "You asked for my thoughts on this, did you not? My thoughts are you should think hard on this yourself. What does Marlene mean to you?"

"Marlene's a friend," he returned quickly, flustered for being put on the spot so suddenly. "A good friend."

That was something to work with. "Good friends sometimes turn into something more." Didn't she know it?

From James' panicked expression he certainly hadn't considered this. "She's just a friend." He seemed to suppress a desperate flail. "The best female friend a bloke could ask for. I can't… date a mate."

"Why not?" Lily insisted, so very keenly aware this would not pan out well for Marlene if left to her own devices. She was such an unrepentant tomboy she'd probably distance herself from this type of wishy washy emotional questioning if confronted. And she would never willingly confess herself.

"Because… Because she's…" His hands flailed in an apparent attempt to artistically articulate his floundering mind. "Mates just don't date alright?"

"I'm dating my best friend." Lily pointed out reasonably, thankful that the panic of the morning was put behind her.

James glanced away and mumbled, "Yeah..." A look of discomfort slipped over his face. Lily let that moment sit, allowing the boy to turn her words over in his generally fairly functional mind.

Finally, leaning back in his chair, James sighed. "I guess I just haven't thought about… anyone else," he confessed, a sheepish look on his handsome face.

Lily's heart thudded dully in her ears as guilt coloured her cheeks. She had lead him on for so long…

"Don't. James. Just don't."

"I know," he sighed and glanced away. A frown of frustration pitted his brows and snarled his lips. "I'm getting over it, I swear. It's just…" He hesitated, a look of guilt crossing his features.

"It's what, James?" Lily pressed on, wanting to get to the bottom of this once and for all.

His hazel eyes closed, appearing to steel himself. "I… really liked you."

Hot dark guilt clawed at Lily's guts. His sincerity made the error of her indecisive heart so much worse. Had he showed her the kind of man he truly was, had he done so before everything that had since happened with Severus…

Then maybe…

Leaning forward, Lily placed a firm hand upon James' shoulder. "I'm sorry," she offered in a steady voice, her green eyes seeking out and holding his bright hazel ones.

Slowly, his pale lips curled up to a lopsided shadow of his usually cocky smile. "Not your fault I couldn't get the message."

A weak smile mirrored upon Lily's lips. So thankful the boy did not hold her at fault for her wishy-washy ways. She withdrew back to her seat, ready to release him back to his daily routine.

Except his sharp eyes had darted to the side with an air of alarm.

And with a stone cold dread, Lily followed his line of sight. And found a shocked Marlene standing frozen by the portrait hole.

Nobody moved for the longest moment. Nobody had even seemed to breathe. It was like the entire world had ceased, and only these three friends remained.

"Marlene," Lily breathed, rattled by the betrayal she found in her best friend's face.

It was like her name broke the spell holding her in place. Turning without a second look back, Marlene fled back through the Portrait entrance, chased down the hallway by the indignant squawking of the Fat Lady.

This was a moment that would make or break everything they stood for. The entire course of their futures plotted in this moment. Lily could feel it in her bones.

"James!" Lily turned to the startled boy, who glancing helplessly to where the blond girl fled. "Go after her!" She didn't know what she was demanding, or why she was demanding it, or even if it would fix anything at all. But she did not relent. "Go after her!"

James glanced back at her, his eyes filled with alarm and hesitation. "What do I say?" he asked in a small voice. He was placed on the spot by this sudden and terrible misunderstanding. And this time, it had the potential to hurt so many.

"I don't know what you could say to her. I don't know what you have decided." Lily shook her head, anguish for this uncertain path tugged upon her heart. "But I know this. There is no way for you and me, James." A lump formed in her throat, though whether it was from anxiety or something else she could not say. "I love Severus."

The boy stared at her, mouth agape, but the disbelief did not touch his eyes. Nor did it touch Lily's heart, as those words left her mouth. Words she may have uttered on sudden need, but truth they had become. She had hated the boy she left by the lakeside, all those months ago. But she could not help but love the man he had become.

"James, Marlene loves you." Lily threw caution to the wind. Whatever the result of tonight would be, it was better for all to be resolved by Gryffindor action than let all opportunity stagnate into resentment and unspoken hearts. "Go after her! I don't know what you say to her, but go after her! Whatever it may be, it could be your last chance to say it before fate takes it all away from you!" Their eyes met, understanding drawn from words unsaid. "Don't leave it to the unforgiving fates."

With one last lingering look, James closed his eyes and nodded, one resolute motion, before he too was out the portrait hall, chased down the darkened hallway by the unheeded cries of the guarding Portrait.

* * *

Everything was terrible.

Snape deposited himself into the armchair by the common room fireplace with a face splitting scowl. Lily hadn't shown up for their evening brewing session, a sure-fire sign she didn't want to see him again. And why would she? After he misread the entire situation and wound up essentially sexually assaulting her. He had bollocked up everything.

There hadn't been anything remotely amorous about their conversation, but his nerves had tingled the entire time they sat together in that dark secluded alcove. He couldn't help but notice everything from how well her blouse settled upon the contours of her slight form, or how the folds of her skirt outlined the curves of her hips.

Of how her lips moved as she spoke, how they caressed every syllable.

And then the touching had begun, and his confusion overwhelmed his disbelief, clearing the way for his lust. His logical mind had been screaming at him the entire time that this was not the situation he hoped it to be, but somehow, against all wisdom, he had chosen to forego his own sage advice.

He had always known teenagers to be stupid, it was only now he realised it wasn't the lack of experience and forethought that made them so. It was these damnable hormones.

Even now as he sat in wallowing shame, his mind could not help but bring up the sweet smell of her fiery hair, the taste of her soft lips, the warmth of her breath, mingling with his own.

The feel of her bare skin beneath his fingertips.

Snape shook himself mentally, tossing those thoughts as far back into his mind as he possibly could before his damnable teenaged body could humiliate him again. How could he have been anything but agonisingly stupid in his youth if even now, with his age-tempered mind, he could not muster any semblance of self-control?

And he was twice her age! Merlin, he was twice her age! She was young enough to be one of his students!

He buried his face in his hands, feeling the burning red of mortification and guilt creeping up his neck and ears. Horrified at his extraordinary moral erring, and yet still unable to silence the part of himself that wished nothing more than to retrieve that memory he pressed behind his conscious thought.

Why was he such a disaster?

Snape glowered into his chest with such force even Mulciber hesitated to approach. In his hand was clutched a tatty foot and a half of parchment, no doubt his ill-measured attempt with homework. The brute of a boy no longer demanded Snape share his knowledge, instead asked, almost politely, for his assistance whenever a complex concept stumped him. Which for him was fairly often.

But today was not a day Snape could muster his patience to work with that dull boy. And it appeared Mulciber sensed it too, because he turned straight back around and headed for Urquart who sat in equally brooding silence in his corner, in a far less intimidating way. Mulciber seemed to think disturbing that brooding boy's peace was preferable to risking Snape's wrath.

This had been a thoroughly taxing day, with promises of depressing ones to follow. Thoroughly drained, both emotionally and physically, Snape wondered if it might not be wise to turn in early and sleep through the rest of the year. In fact, that could be the most intelligent decision he'd made all day.

With his hands braced upon the rests of his armchair, Snape made to leave, in lieu of the spitting snarls that was cropping up from Urquart's corner. But before he could stand from his chair, suspicious movement caught his eyes.

Wilkes stood facing a smaller younger man, with uneven long black hair pulled into a respectable ponytail. Regulus Black. Snape's eyes narrowed as he withdrew back into his armchair and watched the two argue animatedly, yet no voices carried from what should have been a very noisy encounter. A Silencing Charm no doubt, an invisible noiseless sphere was encasing them.

An obvious sign for any spy worth their salt to watch with caution.

Snape folding his arms back down into semblance of his hunched brooding. The shadows of his sunken eyes hid his pupil adeptly in the gloom of the underground common room.

He watched as the two bickered for only mere moments more, before parting, the issue seemingly unresolved by the scowls on both their faces. The bubble of silence popped as Wilkes stomped noisily for the stairs and descended to his bedroom. Regulus strode over to the chairs on the edge of the common room, head held high despite his glower, back straight in the regal poise all well-bred purebloods carried themselves with. He settled himself in the furthest corner from the still squabbling Mulciber and Urquart, Lester now hovering by their shoulders, nervously trying to diffuse whatever that situation was.

Their conflict was attracting the attention of every other disapproving eye in the common room, giving Snape an opportunity to approach the younger Black unnoticed. Snape frowned as he considered his options, knowing all too well both parties involved were Death Eaters to be.

During his past school years, none of these children had committed anything worthy of their future selves, but some courses of the future had already changed. Wilkes had already harmed Lily once in an attempt to strike at Snape, he could not risk injury to her again by ignoring his instincts. To protect Lily was the true goal of his second life, and no measure of emotional exhaustion or aching teenaged pride could dissuade him from his duty.

With unassuming poise, Snape arose from his seat and strode to that corner. Intent on speaking to the usually reserved boy. A prefect from an ancient pureblood family in good standing with the Dark Lord, Regulus had a lofty position within the Slytherin House of old.

Since Snape's usurpation of House values, he had not spared a moment for this known high-risk student. Unlike Rosier and Avery, Snape did not know Regulus well enough to gauge the boy's approach to situations of failing favour. They'd had little to no association during their school days, much of that was due to Snape's own resentment to the boy's older brother, and by the time Snape had entered into the Inner Circle, Regulus had already disappeared.

That event had caused a stir within the Dark Lord's encampment. Everyone had assumed then that the young Black had attempted to flee the fold, and perhaps died because of it, for his place on the Black tapestry had faded in death. That assumption had been compounded by the sudden death of Orion Black, the Patriarch of the family. The man had never been a Death Eater himself, but there was little doubt that the Dark Lord's wrath had been involved. Defectors that eluded their deserved vengeance tended to lead death to their families.

A fate that could still very much be in this boy's future. As could his possible change of heart. But for now, the boy was an ardent admirer of the Dark Lord, and he would have to be treated with appropriate caution.

Snape sat himself down across from the lone boy, who quickly rearranged his glower into a mask of feigned boredom. "Snape," he acknowledged with barely a glance.

"Black," Snape returned, far more politely. His eyes probing for the younger man's eyes, hoping to find an easy mark in a swift smooth skim of the mind.

"Can I help you?" Black asked with a hint of curling venom in his voice, his eyes still cast off in that far off feign of boredom.

There was little point in pretending that he did not witness that little altercation. "I wish to know whether I should _expect_ trouble," the once-spy asked with deliberate emphasis.

Grey eyes flickered probingly to black ones, too quick to glance the thoughts held within them. "Nothing to worry about, Snape," was all the boy returned.

"But I do worry." Snape's eyes did not waver, willing the boy's to meet them. He was unwilling to perform the invasive form of the spell lest reports of his skill with the mind-arts reach unsavoury ears.

Still not meeting his eyes, the young Black flashed his pearly white teeth in a warning smile that resembled more of a snarl. "Then that's your business, Snape. Now would you kindly sod off?"

The boy's sudden fierce snapping tone was at odds with his usually spiritless personality. A fact that did not slip by the experienced spy.

Nor the sudden spasm of Black's delicate fingers. His left hand, clenched with pain.

A familiar reaction to a pain Snape knew so well.

With a swift, unyielding motion, Snape grabbed the clenched hand of the boy and forced up his sleeve, revealing the grotesque tattoo of that snake-tongued skull.

Black eyes met wide grey eyes, his questions answered.

* * *

A/N: Snape may have faced the likes of Voldemort, but now for his greatest threat to his life and dignity. Hormones. Alas for teenage hormones and the stupidity it brings, and yay for friends like Mary. We all need a non-judgemental listener in our lives.

Potter Fact: Regulus Black received his Dark Mark at the Age of sixteen, an age where he would be as a fifth or sixth year at Hogwarts. He died in 1979, as did his father, Orion Black.

Further News: My work shift has very suddenly and very dramatically changed, and as such I'm certain you all notice I've decided to post this chapter far earlier. But from the next post onwards I will shift chapter posts to Saturdays instead of Fridays.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 27th January 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 26: A Lifeline to the Lost**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	26. A Lifeline to the Lost

**Chapter 26: A Lifeline to the Lost**

"And you are certain this is not a deviation from before?" Dumbledore urged.

Snape shook his head. "I cannot be certain."

The headmaster clasped his hands behind his back and turned contemplatively to his high-paned windows. Rain and high winds lashed against the glass, painting the scene in indistinct abstract greys.

The weather changed with the drop of a witch's hat up upon the Scottish highlands. A clear Saturday gave way to a fiercely stormy Sunday, bringing with it a lethargy amongst the student populace. A lethargy Snape took advantage of as he snuck up to the Headmaster's office, ensuring his absence was not noted, nor his shadow followed.

It was here he delivered the discovery of Regulus' Dark Mark. A report not unlike those he'd made as a spy for the Order, a task from another lifetime. A report he waited a cycle of sleep to deliver, for he had feigned ignorance after that invasion into the boy's privacy.

With a biting commentary about the tackiness of body modification arts, Snape had released the boy's arm. Without a moment's hesitation Regulus had snatched his arm back, hiding that grotesque skull beneath his dark cashmere robes. Whether he was convinced by Snape's charade was another matter entirely. He simply stood and strode briskly away, leaving the older boy to sit in silent contemplation.

"Back in my previous life, I recall a period of time when the unsavoury elements that surrounded the boy had boasted unreservedly that they had a legend in their midst," Snape offered to the turned back of the headmaster. "At the time I had not inquired too closely what it had been about but it would not be too much of a stretch to assume it had to do with his acceptance into the Inner Circle." This time there was not nearly as much fanfare, especially after Snape's intervention had driven this faction underground.

Dumbledore turned his blue eyes from the rain streaked window. "Assumptions unmakes many a man."

Snape scowled at this chastising assessment he did not need. "My attention to social dynamics beyond what directly affected me had encompassed very little. There is little I can do about that now."

With a distant look in his calm blue eyes, Dumbledore turned back to his desk but did not seat himself back down in his high-backed chair. With an absentminded motion he reached over to stroke the length of the red and gold feathers of his phoenix. With several dulcet notes of its magical song, Fawkes turned his black eyes to Snape's own with an appraising look filled with more intelligence than a mere magical creature should possess.

"This Dark Mark that Tom brands his intendeds with," the headmaster began with a distant look in his eyes, "-this is not yet knowledge anyone in the wider wizarding world should possess."

Snape dipped his head in agreement. "Not until the Death Eater Trials does this identifying mark become common knowledge."

"Yet the fact that Mr Wilkes had attempted to cajole the boy for a recommendation suggests he knew exactly what this mark had meant." Those piercing blue eyes met Snape's black ones and he relaxed his mental barriers to allow the headmaster a glimpse of the knowledge he had gleaned. Knowledge he did not take passively from Regulus' mind, for the boy had rudimentary training in Occlumency and Snape's forceful pry into his mind could not have gone unnoticed. "Had you been privy to this information at this age, Severus?"

Snape shook his head in a slow deliberate motion. "Not until I had been inducted by Lucius. His mark had been the first I'd seen."

"Yet Mr Wilkes is apparently aware." Dumbledore stroked his long beard in contemplation. "Had he been one of those inducted?"

"He had been, immediately after graduation. Though never into the Inner Circle," Snape recounted. "However Wilkes had met his end at the hands of Aurors not long after the Dark Lord's fall."

"And Regulus Black?"

"Dead before the downfall. Though nobody knew how."

A frown touched the Headmaster's brows as he settled down into his high-backed seat. "So many we are to lose to this encroaching horror."

Snape glanced away, his own part to play in the impending horrors clinging starkly to his mind: the atrocities he committed in the past, unforgivable sins he had committed in his blind hatred, the penance he had been forced to pay.

Everything he had lost, regardless.

Loss he did not wish to experience again in this life.

"This war must be brought to an end swiftly," Snape said as he met the piercing blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore. "We cannot afford to delay our efforts!"

"And I assure you I am doing all that is within my power to discern the location of our two unknown Horcruxes," Dumbledore replied, his calm in complete opposition to how Snape felt.

"Allow me to assist!" the younger man demanded. "You know how vast my powers are. Free me from the mundane shackles of academia and allow me to join your search!"

A weary look passed over the headmaster's face. "We all have our roles to play Severus, yours is not on this quest."

"It's what? Fumbling around with my novice skills in Alchemy?" Snape spat with frustration. "You have proven you do not even need this venom to dispose of the damnable relics! All you have tasked me with is busywork! A task that I have not even been adequately prepared for!"

"Believe me Severus, what I ask of you is of grave importance to me. It is not mere busywork."

"Then task it to a real alchemist!" Snape snarled. The exercise gnawed at him like an incomplete puzzle. He had been assured by the headmaster in the past that he would be handed all the tools he needed to accomplish it over the course of his education, but that could mean a whole year yet. "If it is of such damned vital importance then why give it to the half-trained? I will not be able to do a thing with the meagre knowledge I have gained!"

With a placating gesture, Dumbledore calmly assured his young counterpart, "Had I the time to handle this task alongside my other responsibilities I would have done so, Severus. As it were, I have my hands full with the running a school, on top of other responsibilities vying for my attention. Other alchemists, perhaps, could be up to the task with an offer of your memories, but that would create an unnecessary risk, would you not agree?"

Snape fell silent, immediately chastised for his previous outburst. He already knew of the negatives to the alternatives, but still somehow found it in himself to lose his temper and complain like a spoilt child. "Fine. But do not expect fruits from my efforts in the immediate future."

"Please, do take your time. We have a while to go yet before its need is immediate and dire," Dumbledore offered, then added rather kindly. "You are a clever and resourceful young man Severus, and experienced in the creatively tasking fields of Spell crafting. When you have reached an adequate level in your alchemical education, I have no doubt you will be up to this task."

This was to be the extent of the explanation and platitude he would receive today. Snape internally sighed, not at all comfortable with this ill-fitting role he was given. The idea of being virtually inactive while the war was to play out for a whole year did not sit well with the veteran. Especially when he knew of the atrocities to come and could do nothing about it. An acquiescence he knew they must make, lest they risk sending the course of the future spinning into the unknown. Even Snape's current actions with regards to the House of Slytherin was a risk to their futures, especially now that the Death Eater threat was literally among them.

"Very well. If there is nothing else, Dumbledore." Snape made to stand.

"Actually, there is," Dumbledore replied, stopping Snape mid-stand. "The Summer break is not long in our futures, and I fear there is little I can do to stop your exodus from the safety of our grand castle."

With a scowl, Snape resettled himself back into his seat. "I'll live," he replied, somewhat more blasé than he actually felt. To him it had been over twenty years since he had seen his parents last, a sentimentality he had no wish to indulge. There were no good memories to be had in their company. No good memories in that house that was no home. Had he a choice, he would not choose to return.

"I am happy to hear your confidence in the matter, but if I may, I have taken the liberties to assist that noble goal." The headmaster smiled his grandfatherly smile, immediately causing Snape's eyes to narrow with the suspicion that the old man may have meddled where he was not welcome to. "I have arranged for you to take your Apparition exam this weekend coming."

A simple glower could not convey the extent of Snape's displeasure. "I have not the galleons for this, and you know it."

"That is why I have paid for it in advance. It is a gift, Severus."

Exactly the wrong answer. "Do you expect me to feel thankful for your pity?" Snape spat. He hated this reminder of his destitution.

"Not pity, Severus." All semblance of gentle patience vanished from Dumbledore's calm demeanour and in its place stood a cold practicality. "You have an important part to play in this war, so like it or not, I will be ensuring your survival."

Snape lowered his eyes, scowling viciously into the great oak table. It was no more comforting an explanation, but at least he could live with the thought that it was not charity he was accepting, but an investment.

"If it makes you feel better, I do intend to ask something of you in return." The younger man glanced up with a frown, hairs tingling on the back of his neck at the tone in the headmaster's voice. "There is something I need that only you can do. A task I need you to accomplish over your Summer Break."

Snape leaned forward. "I'm listening."

Dumbledore peered over his half-moon glasses, his blue eyes meeting black ones, a gesture without invasion. "We once spoke at length over the dilemma of the Prince family inheritance, and the threat it poses to the safety of you and your family."

Snape nodded briskly in acknowledgement, suspecting with a sliver of dread where this was headed.

"I have heard tale he grows tired of being petitioned day and night for his fortune in lieu of his lack of heirs. One of such petitioners is Edward Rosier."

"The Dark Lord's right-hand man," Snape acknowledged, "until his death in two years' time during an ambush by the Order."

"On information you provided."

Snape dipped his head in the affirmative. He could not be anything but responsible for more death and destruction, even when in service to the light.

Dumbledore folded his hands calmly before him, a gesture that warned Snape of the distasteful order to come. "I need you to reunite him with your mother, Eileen."

"His blood traitor of a daughter? I'm sure that would go over well," Snape sneered.

"I did not say it will be easy," the headmaster continued in his calm and unrelenting tone, "but if you succeed we deny Voldemort a source of precious funding, and with it we deal a great blow to his capacity to wage war."

Funding, support and morale, the trifecta of war. Snape had no doubt of the importance of this task, only his means to accomplish it. "I will… _try_ , my utmost to see this complete."

"I believe this is a task that only you can accomplish, Severus," Dumbledore offered with a kindly smile, "and I will not have you do so unprepared. This coming weekend, after your Apparition exam, I will have you head to Gladrags Wizardwear to be fitted out in a set of formal dress robes."

This time Snape accepted the offer without protest. He could not accomplish his task wearing his rags, he would not make it through the gates to the Prince Estate. His dignity was a necessary investment for the greater war to come.

* * *

Marlene hadn't said anything when she returned to the sleeping quarters the previous night, slipping back into her four-posters without a word to the other girls. No words, but she had met Lily's peering eyes, for the first time in days, and she hadn't seemed angry. Nor did she seem upset, or dejected, or even worried. Just a mild air of confusion about her.

Lily had done her best to right things, but she had no idea of whether what she did helped or harmed her friend. She was not content over how matters went down, but there was little else she could do in that regard. All she could do was to refocus on her second conundrum that she had managed to provoke.

Severus was avoiding her. There was no doubt in Lily's mind when she knocked on the door to his lab without answer.

"Severus, I know you're in there!" She knocked harder on the solid wood, frustrated by the lack of reply.

With a huff of frustration, she went for the handle, finding without any hint of surprise he had locked the premises. "Alohomora!" She commanded to no avail, even attempting the same simple charm with the aid of her wand.

With a sigh, Lily leaned her forehead against the warm wood of the heavy door. "Look. I know you're embarrassed about what happened," she muttered through the door, loud enough to know it would carry. The wood was thick, but it had not been made soundproof. "But I would really like it if we can talk about it like a couple of adults." She gave the door two heavy knocks for good measure. "So please don't shut me out."

She waited, and waited, but no reply greeted her.

"Fine! Sulk!" Lily turned with a harrumph and would have stormed back down the hallway had she not almost walked straight into a Slytherin.

Tall and slender, with dark eyes that stared intimidatingly from almost equally sunken sockets as her Sev, Sebastian Urquart had a most sinister look that was oddly handsome. But like with her Severus, she knew this Slytherin boy was not the fearsome boy he appeared to be.

Urquart cleared his throat. "If I may. Though my House has learned much in the ways of etiquette of recent times, I would still suggest you make haste to the world above."

"Yeah. Usually I'd be in there by now, but he seems intent on locking me out," Lily groused with a swipe at the door.

He glanced at her with an up raise of his slim eyebrows. "Are you even sure he's even in there?"

"He usually is," Lily replied, feeling suddenly a little sheepish at the idea she'd spent the past fifteen minutes just shouting at a door.

Drawing his wand, the tall Slytherin boy pointed to the door, "Homenum Revelio," and without a sympathetic smile to soften the blow he promptly declared, "Nobody's there."

Well, didn't Lily feel silly. "Right. I was going to do that next," she mumbled before turning back up the hallway.

"That's the problem with you Gryffindors. Act first then think later," Urquart supplied, not unjustly.

"What can I say? We can't all be broody and up ourselves like you Slytherins."

A smile touched the sullen boy's face, lifting the sinister veil that sat upon his angular face. It was honestly magical what a sense of humour could do for one's appearance.

"I can escort you from the dungeons, Ms Evans," he offered. "I don't think Snape would thank me for leaving you to wander these halls alone."

"I think he's gotten used to me popping around here for a visit," Lily replied with a smile.

"I don't think he'd tell you what he actually thinks," Urquart returned.

Lily fell in step with the towering boy. "How do you know? Does he tell you?" It rubbed Lily in all sorts of wrong ways to think her Sev talked to others more intimately than he did with her. At one point in their life there was nobody closer to the two of them than each other.

But to Lily's relief Urquart shook his head. "He doesn't speak his mind to anybody. But that should come as no surprise for a proper Slytherin like him. It is not what is spoken that belies the truth of Slytherin minds."

"You're awfully candid for a Slytherin," Lily glanced up with an inquiring stare.

He bared a grin that almost resembled a grimace. "That might be the Gryffindor in me, I had a hung sorting between the two houses."

Lily grinned with delight. "We could have been Housemates!"

"I don't think that would have worked," he replied without any withhold, wiping the smile off the girl's face.

"Come now! We're not that bad. We're all friendly up there," Lily insisted loudly, her voice echoing down the chamber. "Even James wouldn't have bullied a fellow Gryffindor."

"You're all too friendly. That is my issue," Urquart replied, far less offensively.

Lily glanced up at the tall boy with an upraised eyebrow. "Something to hide?"

Urquart glanced down at her with a bored expression. "As any who values privacy has something to hide."

She knew he was subtly referencing her Sev, an answer she knew all too well. He was a private being, and always would be. At no point in their lives together had he been forthwith about his situation. Everything she knew about him had been from observation, and constant insistent prying queries. Though he hated divulging anything about himself, she felt they were better for it, because what she understood of him gave her patience to deal with his less than warm nature.

Most of all, she understood why he would not wish for the extent of the decrepitude of his home life to be known. He had lived in a pitiable state; his childhood had been devoid of the love and care he should have received from the people who were supposed to have been there for him.

And pity was the one thing Severus Snape would never accept.

Lily glanced up at her odd Slytherin companion, wondering if his wish for privacy might not stem from something similar. She didn't get a chance to ask, affirming her prying Gryffindor ways, as he suddenly stopped mid step and Lily swung about to where he stared.

Severus Snape stood frozen midstride himself, eyes wide upon catching sight of the two. As usual his body had not reacted as fast as his wits and he wound up half tripping himself in his haste to stop.

As if sensing the two needed some time alone, Urquart turned to Lily. "I believe my company is no longer required," he stated with a gentlemanly bow, before turning to offer his fellow Slytherin a brisk nod. "Snape." And he strode off, leaving the two alone, and scrambling to find mental purchase.

"We need to talk," were the first words out of Lily's mouth, and from the look of subtle horror in the boy's marginally widening eyes she realised this wasn't the best bridging statement she could have chosen.

With a slight turn of his head, he indicated a door to an unused classroom. A private place to converse on a weekend, for no classrooms were in official use on a Sunday. Occasionally they'd be commandeered by a pair of frisky students, but somehow that risk felt very low down in the less than romantic settings of the Slytherin dungeons.

A most fitting place to sort things out, without the risk of getting ahead of themselves in either direction.

Severus held the door as she stepped through, closing it carefully with silencing wards, but she noticed that he purposefully chose not to lock it. No doubt not wishing to avoid making her feel like he'd trapped her in there.

Stepping from the door, he did not approach. Severus dropped his head and clasped his hands behind his back in the look of a child who knew he was in trouble, the very picture of apologetic contrition.

"Hey, come on. Look at me," Lily urged as she stepped into his personal space, her hands reached out to cup his cheeks, but then hesitated. He glanced up, eyes flashing with hurt and dejection. It was as if her unwillingness to touch him confirmed to him his worst fears.

He stepped back before Lily could change her mind, taking them both out of each other's personal space. "Sorry," he muttered, humiliation colouring his unfiltered expression. "I hadn't meant to- I did not mean to do what I did… I'm sorry-"

"Don't be. You weren't wrong to assume," Lily interrupted suddenly, her cheeks aglow from her own audaciousness. Severus glanced up, confusion mingling with disbelief upon his face. "I mean, I wasn't ready then," Lily quickly backtracked, blush fully rooted in her expression, "but… we are in a relationship. And it's not… incorrect… that you want to… umm."

Unable to maintain eye contact, the blushing girl looked everywhere but directly into those suddenly intense black eyes. "I mean… It'd be a lot more of a problem if you didn't want to… As in… It's… normal?" She was rambling, and she knew it. Mary was the one who existed in perpetual sexual liberation, Lily couldn't even touch the concept without bursting into blushing flames. It didn't help that her family had raised her on traditional values, and though the influence of her peers had mitigated that somewhat, she still felt a pang of guilt whenever her thoughts stepped out of those strict moral boundaries.

She glanced up, determined to affirm this for both of them. But one glance told her she no longer needed to. Shame no longer bowed down Severus' shoulder, nor clouded his eyes. Instead a smile sat upon his lips, genuine and untethered, filled with indecent amusement.

"Are you enjoying this?" Lily asked in mock aghast, fighting her own traitorous smile.

He did not retreat, confidence seemingly bolstered by the Gryffindor's floundering grapple with her own embarrassment. "I cannot say I am displeased by this discovery. I had no idea you were so liberal."

"Quite the gamble you took then," Lily quipped coolly, though the effect was somewhat ruined by her still furiously blushing cheeks.

"I confess, in moments of weakness I tend to be an optimist."

That joke took Lily by such surprise and that grand snort of laughter issued forth before she could stop it. She dissolved into a spiral of uncontrolled giggles, both mortified by her own unladylike conduct and by this usually stoic boy's sudden show of humour.

Severus didn't seem in the least put off by her lack of decorum, seeming immeasurably pleased by her lack of inhibitions. Face flush with laughter and love, she stepped forward again into that inscrutable boy's comfort zone, and this time he did not retreat. Instead he leaned downwards to meet her offered lips, a confident yet chaste kiss.

Lily did not fear a second misunderstanding, because when the time came it would not be. She felt secure in the relationship they had built, a worry answered that she never knew needed answering.

He was not handsome, he was not rich, he wasn't even that charismatic. But it was never about what he lacked.

He was a man with a heart that held so much love. A love nobody but Lily knew existed. A love that nobody but Lily felt.

A love she could not help but return.

* * *

The worries of his morning almost seemed of small importance to Snape after all that had occurred. Almost. When he returned to his Slytherin Common Room, far more liberated from his worries, he turned his attention back to the realities of the war.

There was a nervous air about the House of late, one that had been stirred by the opening notes of the terrible war to come. Many of these children were from families that stood on the other side, a side that was fast losing support among their peers.

Your House is your family, and many feared the choice they were soon be made to make.

Peer pressure would be a powerful tool, and how well Snape knew its power. But so too did he know the awful damage it could wring upon a child's psyche. The undue stress and heartache that the pressure would bring.

It was not pressure these children needed. It was support.

Snape sat himself in his usual armchair by the fire and cracked open a textbook. It had been a ritual to do a portion of his revision the recent weeks in the common room so that members of his House could feel free to approach him with questions about homework or for a general chat. Though as a professor, Snape had been considered unapproachable by many, he had never lacked time for the children of his own House.

And right now, they needed support beyond anything a teacher could give them. They needed positive affirmation from their peers, they needed to know that no matter what happened in the outside world, their House would continue to be their family.

A message Snape could have done with as a young man in this very time and situation.

This was why he took it upon himself to act as approachable as he could be. It was a new role for him, for he had never been a figure that others looked up to in the past. With it came responsibilities he had never before been asked to bear. He still had his off days, where these children could definitely tell he was not in the mood to coddle them, such as yesterday where his glower could have melted glass. But for the most part he did his best to act against his anti-social personality, and for his effort they responded.

"Heya Snape. Got a minute?" Asked an approaching forth year.

Lincon Rawkas, the fourth year who had identified most rapidly with Snape's imposed changes. The boy who struck a blow against the Marauders to give Snape the opportunity he needed.

"Certainly," Snape replied, closing the text he hadn't even had a chance to read since he sat.

It was about uncertainties to do with the approaching holidays no doubt. Everyone was twisted into knots over it, especially with the shadow of war that loomed across the summer. Rawkas came from a half blood family, much like Snape. Unlike Snape, however, his father had been the magical part, and his mother the muggle; a fact that had not torn them apart.

The boy chose the armchair across from Snape, sitting at almost equal height with the older boy. Rawkas was likely to grow far taller than his counterpart eventually, like so many did, a reality the adult in him had gotten used to. A pox on his malnourished years of growth.

"Crazy things happening out there," he began nervously, an unsurprising topic to the older boy.

"It won't be getting better," Snape replied, not willing to soften the blow with false platitudes.

The boy looked away, worries laying plain upon his young face. "Amycus seems to think what's happening is things getting better. He says very soon we'll have to pick sides, and that there will be no mercy shown to blood traitors."

Ah yes, Amycus Carrow. Not even out of school himself and already stoking terror in the student populace.

"He's in your year is he not?" Snape asked, not unkindly. He was beginning to learn the value of coddling in times of fear and uncertainty.

"Yeah but he's not my friend," answered Rawkas with an impressive scowl of distaste. The Carrows had both been part of the Death Eater gang back when the movement had been popular amongst the Slytherin populace and it did not surprise Snape one whit that a once outcast like the half-blood Rawkas had not found it in himself to forgive these distances.

With an almost gentle patience, Snape answered the confounded boy the best he could. "All I can I promise you is, any choice you will have to make will not be forced upon you at school. Let academia be your main concern, and leave the troubles of the wizarding world to the adults."

"Adults like you?" He asked, eyes wide and expectant.

The shadow of amusement touched Snape's eyes. "Perhaps by law. I am yet still a student."

"Right," he nodded, yet somehow not placated by the answer, "and then you'll be leaving."

"That is the point of graduation," Snape agreed.

A shadow of discomfort flitted over Rawkas' eyes. "When that happens, what happens to the rest of us?"

A strange question to be sure. "Continue with school, and graduate I'm sure," Snape replied, carefully watching the twisting uncertainty growing within the boy. "You fear something terrible to happen when I leave?"

With a slow nod the Slytherin child confirmed it to be so. A fear none had spoken to him about until now.

"Well that won't be for another good year yet," Snape answered the boy in a slow measured voice. His responsibilities suddenly weighing all the more heavily upon his thin and unimpressive shoulders. "It would not do to think on things so far in the distance when the realities of this year's exams are looming far closer."

With a weak smile Rawkas appeared to relax a fraction, his troubles were not lessened but at the very least his worries had been heard. "I'll leave you to your studies then. See you later, alright Snape?"

"Very well. Good day to you," Snape returned, sending the boy on his way.

This conversation had been a wakeup call to Severus Snape. A reminder that there were still forces within their very House that existed beyond his influence that threated the wellbeing of these children. No matter his desires upon the pleasures of his own life, there was much to be done in the ways of responsibility. His desire to spend every waking moment with his Lily, ran in direct competition against the time he had to spend with the vulnerable children of his House. Young minds that could yet be swayed from the darkness.

His responsibilities for this war was not just orders given to him, but the hearts and minds of the children who had yet to take arms.

And this responsibility weighed upon him as heavily as any role he'd ever taken on.

Snape glanced about the room for signs of this duress, and found fragments of it wherever he looked. All over the common room, children sat huddled together, in conversation, in study, in worried brooding. In the corner where Urquart sat, Mulciber had taken the chair opposite. Both appearing to study in abject silence, despite rarely able to tolerate each other's presence. A true sign of disquiet if ever there was one.

Lester had taken a strange role in recent months, having put himself in a very similar position to what Snape had done. The muggle-born boy had chosen to take the few other unfortunate muggle-borns of the house under his wing and supported them. He knew too well how difficult it had been with year mates that did not support him, and chose to share his fortunes rather than hoard them.

In the corner of the room, Regulus sat alone again, no longer surrounded by the admirers Snape recalled from his memories from a similar time, in very different situation. His branding had driven him into solitude, as opposed to elevating him as it would have in a time no longer.

The worry the boy bore upon his brow bespoke of the troubles Snape had just attempted to ward from the young forth-year. In that the younger Black had not the luxury to avoid such concerns, after all, he had taken the mark, his side in the war was already determined. The worries of adulthood were his to bear. But not his forever, for if the rumours were correct, Regulus Black would eventually defect, and upon his head, and upon the heads of his family would fall the stupidity of his youth.

There was little Snape could do for the boy after his choices had been made. There wasn't a light side left to sway the boy to, not until he woke from his nightmares from his own volition. That thought stirred sympathy in the once-Death Eater, a situation so similar to the terrible choices that Snape had once made.

It was perhaps this shared history that spurred Snape into action, leaving the comfort of his familiar chair for the armchair across from that lone pureblood boy. Black barely looked up from his brooding silence, the only indication that he noticed his new companion at all was a shift of expression from a troubled scowl to a lofty boredom.

Snape drew his wand and threw about them a Muffliato, encasing them in the silencing ward tailored to public privacy.

"What do you want Snape?" Black asked, his mask of boredom unconvincing next to his snappish tone.

There were several ways to approach this, Snape's spy experience had taught him. Several more, had this boy actually been a simpleton. But this was not the older brother that Snape was dealing with. The younger Black had always been the thinker of the two.

The truth, perhaps, was the key to dialogue, or as close to it as he could reasonably allow. "I know what that mark means, Regulus," Snape began, purposefully choosing to use his given name. Closing the gap between them with subtle manipulations.

"Saw that in my mind, did you?" Regulus scowled, his eyes now clouded with an iron barrier. He was well trained in Occlumency, as expected from a favoured child from as dark a family as Household Black.

Snape did not refute it, this was as convenient an excuse as he could have, for an incident he could not deny. "Do you know the dangers of the path you chose?"

"Better than you do," the boy returned with scathing edge. If only he knew.

Snape regarded the boy silently. If there was defection in this boy's future, he saw no signs of it now. Fanatical, and sure of his place. This was a boy who believed he had what he desired, damned be those who said otherwise.

"Whatever may become of your choice, I will not compound your danger," Snape finally offered in a calm but firm tone. "I will keep your brand a secret, as too to its meaning."

A lie to be sure, and one the clever boy did not believe. "Why would you?" he hissed. "I am your enemy, and enemy to all those you hold dear!"

The thought of Lily flickered through Snape's mind, and it took a dose of willpower to stay civil through that touch of fear. But willpower was not a resource Snape lacked. "You are not yet my enemy until such a time you choose to act so." He spoke calmly, his black eyes holding those grey ones in place. "Live your student life without fear of discovery, or harassment. When you take upon the world, then we may clash accordingly. Be a student for now, there is time enough later to be a monster."

A scowl crept over the young Black's features, untinged by any flavour of uncertainty. Unbelieving his chosen path to be as abhorrent as befitting that term. Unknowing of how prophetic Snape's words would be.

"And if, at the end of it all, you discover that your path does not lead you to the man you want to be, please remember there are people still willing to help you." An offer of sanctuary for the boy who would one day need it. It was all he could do for him now. Snape's job was not to protect the boy from himself. That was a battle that he could only fight on his own.

* * *

A/N: It feels odd for Snape to act more like a teacher as a student than he had all his teaching career, but at the very least he had always been a good teacher to the Slytherins. Perhaps in that he hasn't actually changed.

A/N: Happy Australia day everyone! I forgot I had this Friday off so here's this chapter a day early!

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 10th February 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 27: Heart on his Sleeves**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	27. Heart on his Sleeves

**Chapter 27: Heart on his Sleeves**

It had been a long while since Severus Snape willingly entered Hogsmeade. Even as a professor, he'd forego outings to this backwater village unless he was forcibly made to do so by his duties as what amounted to being a glorified babysitter. Thankfully there were usually a surplus of teachers, ready and willing to take on that role, whilst partaking some leisurely time of their own. And by the time the other professors had gotten to know him well enough for social invites, they also knew he was not fond of alcohol, nor sweets nor social interactions. Not a good candidate for companionship in the chain of bars that summed up the adult entertainment in Hogsmeade.

Yet even with that glowing recommendation, Lily still demanded to tag along for the day. She had spent the morning in her role as a prefect supervising the visiting students in an effort to minimise their ill behaviour. An arduous and often fruitless task, made worse by this terrible humidity that promised terrible things for the summer to come, yet when she bounded up to him that afternoon she didn't seem any worse for wear.

"How did your Apparition exam go?" came the first words from her mouth. Apparently, they were past the stage of greeting each other with actual greetings upon meeting.

"There were no issues," Snape replied. Indeed, the most difficult part of the day had been to find the blasted Test Centre in that mess of a Ministry and wait through its twice blasted bureaucracy. Even in his past life, Snape had perhaps set foot in the ministry thrice. Once for his own Apparition exam, once on an errand run for Lucius, and once for his own Death Eater Trial. Those had been dark days.

However, those thoughts were far from his mind as he smiled at his girlfriend's enthusiastic greeting. Instead of happily congratulating him, Lily huffed and pouted, "I hate that I missed out."

"Your moral support was not necessary, I assure you." They set off on a gentle stroll down the wide paved street. Small shopfronts beamed merrily to them, cheerfully welcoming in their locale and design, having the exact opposite effect on the Slytherin boy.

With a heavy sigh, Lily leaned into the Slytherin boy, taking his hand as she did so. A hand freely given. "How do you do it, Sev? You hadn't even practiced. I knew you were a genius but this wasn't something your enormous brain could bludgeon through."

How well he knew it too, having splinched himself more times than he could count while he was being privately tutored in the art of Apparition at the Malfoy Estate. The secret to the skill had been imagination, combined with intense concentration, two things Snape had never lacked. But at the time he first set upon the practice, he had been in a bad place mentally.

"Perhaps the thought of your disappointment kept me together," Snape replied with thin humour. "I cannot imagine you being terribly impressed if I returned mangled."

"I'll love you no matter how many bits you're in," she replied in an almost offhanded way. Silence hung between them as Snape registered what she just said. Colour began rising upon Lily's face, as if she hadn't quite intended that turn of phrase, but the words out of her mouth was unapologetic. "Don't give me that look. You know what I mean."

"You just said you loved me," Snape mumbled, his face flushing with a confused mingle of cautious delight and doubt.

Flustered, Lily tried to brush it away. "Oh, come on. Surely that's not such a ground shattering discovery."

"It's the first time you told me."

"I didn't realise you were keeping count."

"Hard to lose count at one."

An obvious discomfort flitted over Lily's face, making Snape believe perhaps she had uttered it by mistake and was attempting to find a way to retract it tactfully. However, she leant into him, twisting his hand in such a way their limbs tangled, bringing them closer. "I shouldn't have needed to say it out loud, Sev," she mumbled. "I don't want you to think otherwise."

He squeezed her fingers, watching a smile tickle her lips in response. There were no words he could say that could adequately convey how he felt. Few words could really describe the calm that entwined his heart.

Love, she had said. Not like, not appreciate, nor any other myriad of wishy-washy emotions.

He stopped midstride, almost pulling Lily off-balance by their entwined hands. She stumbled sideways, finding her feet before she took a tumble, but not before Snape caught her. A sly embrace for certain, but it was about as far into public shows of affection that he could bring himself to display. Even now he could feel judgemental eyes boring into him, stares from students and residents that believe she could do better.

And they would not be wrong.

From the sly smile upon her face, Lily sensed his intentions. Her arms snaked around his torso, preventing him from playing it off as an accident, and locking them into a very public entwine. Being seen in-public in the company of an ill-groomed, ill dressed and ill-shapen man like him had never seemed to phase her in the least. By comparison, Snape felt far more keenly the embarrassment on her behalf.

"So, where to first?" Lily asked, smiling as she pressed up against him.

First is the appointment with the tailor Dumbledore had arranged for him. "Umm," Snape began, uncertain how best to spin this explanation. Lily knew he could not afford new clothes of his own so admitting the need to attend the tailors was inviting many a pointed question.

"Are you certain you wish to spend your afternoon with me? I… cannot afford to take you anywhere." A humiliating confession, and close enough to the truth. For he truly could not afford anything with the stray knut and a spool of loose threads in his pocket.

Lily was not put off by his retreating remark, as was to be expected. "Hey mister. I worked very hard to organise all my patrol times to the morning. Don't you dare flake out on me."

A lie it is then. "I'm afraid I have some business to attend to first. Dumbledore had arranged for me to receive a tailored cut so as to not embarrass him nor Professor Flamel when I attend the Alchemical Conference over the Summer Break." A shaky lie, one that would fall apart if Lily knew the first thing about when and where this conference was held.

Luckily it seemed Lily had not the first clue about the goings on of the magical world at large. "Oh my goodness, that's wonderful!" she gasped, her grasp loosening as she leant back to look him better in the eye. "You make yourself known to the world, you hear? You're going to be someone great. I know it!"

Lily's faith in him stirred warmth in Snape's heart. Words that he had told himself once upon a time before they died along with his dreams, and his future. Words he had the misfortune to know that it would never came to fruition, but clung to them foolishly in the hopes that it may. The cynical adult in him silenced for the bright-eyed teenaged fool that sprouted in Lily's presence.

But not silent enough to sober him with the reminder that he had stirred her hopes with a lie, and the world rearranged itself back into monochrome order.

"Come then. Let us not keep my appointment waiting," Snape muttered as Lily slipped from his grasp and clung to his hand once more.

Grinning with excitement, Lily fell into step beside the semi-brooding boy. "What kind of robes are you getting?" she asked, eyes misting over with her own imaginings.

"Formal, I expect," Snape answered, not half as keenly. Shopping for clothing was a rare event in his life, and one that was always marked with personal dread. And it was with that very dread that he laid eyes on the establishment, Gladrags Wizardwear, as it loomed from across the cobbled street.

"You're getting dress robes?" Lily gasped, bouncing with excitement, pulling him eagerly in that direction. "Those beautiful fancy robes? You're going to look so handsome!"

Handsome she said… "These robes won't be going over my face."

Lily swatted at him playfully. "Hush you. Don't you dare disparage yourself."

With a cheerful clinging of bells, they entered the dress-shop, and Snape's senses were immediately assaulted by fluorescent pinks. Several adolescent girls were already browsing the selections, some turned and giggled at the dreary sight of him. Suddenly he hated everything about this exercise.

"Welcome. Welcome." A portly middle-aged lady bustled over from her counter. "I am owner and proprietor, Beatrix Lott. Mr Snape, am I correct?"

"Did Dumbledore leave you with a description of me as well?" Snape scathed, annoyed at how quickly he had been singled out.

"The young man who looks like he'd rather be anywhere else," The proprietor confirmed with her daisy-bright smile. "But to be fair, you are the third today that fits this description, dragged in through these doors by fair maidens."

"He's the one you're looking for," Lily supplied helpfully, giving her boyfriend an encouraging shove.

With a beaming smile, the shopkeeper bustled him through the door into a screened off fitting room, wielding a length of measuring tape like a weapon. "Robe off, Mr Snape. I'll need full access for accurate cuts." Wonderful. And so began this invasive procedure.

It was perhaps good fortune that Snape had some idea of what to expect, having been tailor fitted by Lucius' personal Outfitter once before. Wizard Robes did not mesh well with measurements, and his resistance to disrobing in the face of the stranger's scrutiny was muted by experience.

Slipping his thin tattered school robes from his shoulders, Snape submitted himself to the busy professionalism of this clothier. No tuts issued from her mouth, nor comments about his size, nor form. His ribs still pressed against his skin, but not in the severe, famine-formed way. After a year of decent nutrition his wasting was no longer so obvious. His flesh actually held some form now, with structures beneath his skin speaking of more than just bones. A lean look, but by no means muscular. Thankfully he had been allowed to keep his trousers on, else he'd be giving the woman an eyeful of his pale skinny legs and less than respectable underwear.

"All done dear," Madam Lott announced with a sympathetic smile. Wonderful. Pity from someone who measures ungainly bodies for a living. "Now, Professor Dumbledore had indicated that the pick of style be left up to you. Any particular style you'd like?" A display rack of male-robes materialised onto the walls about the fitting room, many too gaudy to be chosen willingly by any male patron. One was even covered in ridiculous golden florets, haling straight out of the fantasies of Gilderoy Lockhart himself.

"Simplest design. Black," was all Snape requested, and an elegant sweeping set unlatched itself from its display and settled itself onto a changing rack and inverted its colouring from an offensive yellow into a shade of charcoal black.

"It's traditionally worn without trousers dear, but I'll expect you'll like a set," the lady offered quickly, no doubt cringing at the thought of Snape pairing the fine fabric with his tatty leggings.

"Please," Snape agreed, pulling on the readied robes, and feeling the smoothness of the satin lining against his skin. The robe itself was quality wool of a high thread count, finer than any item he owned, perhaps even through two lifetimes.

The fabric was cut into two layers, seams stitched together and hidden within well-tailored folds, running parallel down the front and back length of his robes and into the upper skirts where it ended about his knees. The hems of the bottom layer continued however, down to his ankles, fluttering about in a multilayered fashion. Snape had initially feared that this design would cause his skirts to flare out ridiculously as he turned, like the lip of a bell, but after a few quick back-and-forth before a full-length mirror showed Snape that the designer had his fears in mind. The ruffling of the fabric coiled up evenly along the folded seams, giving the robes an elegant sway about it. A fine black embroidery thread itself along the edges of his folds, essentially invisible against its same-coloured canvas. Elegance and simplicity at its best.

"This will do fine," Snape nodded his approval.

"Let me see!" called Lily's voice from beyond the curtain. How long she had stood there eavesdropping he had no clue. It was no longer unexpected that she'd do so from time to time. A fact that he'd simply have to rearrange his own peeves to accommodate.

In an overly helpful manner, Madam Lott yanked open the curtains, allowing the whole shop front a view of him in those rich oversized robes. Snape scowled his thanks as Lily stepped inside, admiring his selection with a sparkle in her eye. "Black?"

Snape frowned. "What else would it be?"

With a smile and a nonchalant shrug, Lily confessed, "I thought white might have been more your colour." A ridiculous notion as there ever was one. "But I like how black looks on you," she conceded most graciously.

Snape nodded in agreement, and turned as she bade with a gesture. "Needs a little fitting," he muttered as he lifted his arms, his sleeves dangling ridiculously from his skinny wrists. This part of the design would simply not do for a potioneer; there was a reason why he never wore loose sleeves, and it hadn't been simply because he feared it slipping up his arm and giving everyone an eyeful of his Dark Mark.

"And a little decorating. I like the black, but does it have to be all black?" Lily asked as she stepped in close.

"I was just asked to pick a colour," Snape muttered, not quite liking where this was going.

"You look like a vampire."

"I assure you they have ridiculous sparkling twits among their numbers as well."

Her fingers ran down the folds of the robes, briefly chasing away his worrisome thoughts. "How about having the pretty inlaid patterns in a different colour? Perhaps silver?"

"I can certainly do that during the alteration," the tailor confirmed with a smile.

It was an acceptable concession to Lily's desires. "Would it be possible too, perhaps, to have these sleeves altered to a tighter design?" Snape inquired.

"Certainly," Lott replied. "Professor Dumbledore had insisted you be allowed to make alterations of your choosing. He suspected the sleeves might be a problem for you." After being read like an open book, Snape didn't doubt the old man would venture a guess about his aversion to flapping sleeves.

Lily spun around to the portly proprietor, beaming excitedly. "Oh, if that's the case there's an alteration I want too!" With that she leant over and whispered her instructions into that grinning woman's ear.

"My, that sounds absolutely darling," the lady harped with delight, "but only if the young gentleman approves. I'm afraid my instructions only covered his will."

"What is it?" he muttered cautiously.

Lily seemed to hesitate, glancing about like a naughty child being forced to reveal her antics. "Just trust me, alright? It's going to look better than it sounds." Snape stilled as Lily beamed her wide eyed pleading smile. Every instinct in his body was screaming 'no', but he lacked the will to disappoint her.

"Fine," he grated out, dreading what he had just condemned himself to.

Madam Lott clapped her hands with delight. "I'll just get the materials ready. I'll be back to collect the robes!" and with that she bustled out, humming cheerfully.

Snape sighed internally as the curtains flapped shut, leaving him alone with Lily. He eyed her expectantly, silently waiting for her to realise she needed to leave him to change. Except she was not getting the message, in fact she was watching him quite expectantly, hand held out as if ready to receive his shed robes.

"I'm not disrobing with you here," he muttered, eyeing her extended hands warily.

With an up-arched eyebrow Lily jabbed back hard, "Weren't so hesitant with me, now were you?

Snape flushed at the reminder, his humiliating teenaged loss of reason. Reminded again so very forcefully when he stood there, holding the robes in his skinny arms, Lily's provocation yet again spurring him to foolish action.

With a bright unabashed smile, Lily took the bundle from his hands, leaving him feeling very foolish and naked despite his grey too-short trousers. He wasn't ready to subject Lily to the sight of his thin pale chest, how tightly his skin clung to his bones despite the wideness of his shoulder frames.

Crossing his arms in a way he hoped looked more annoyed than vulnerable, Snape turned his back on those watching green eyes, only to see them in the mirror, widening with horror.

Her hand reached out as if to touch him, but stilled with a shudder. "Why…?" she breathed, chilling Snape's heart with her hesitation. Then he felt those fingers upon his back, running over grooves he had long forgotten were there. Those scars had not yet healed completely, not since he stubbornly refused to seek treatment, hardening into scars that have not faded adequately over the course of the year.

He turned to her, unable to meet her eyes, his hand laid gently on hers as he guided her from the changing room. At the threshold she hesitated, her eyes searching out his in desperate question.

"My father," was all he could manage, as he pushed her through the screen.

* * *

Lily paced about the shop, no longer able to take pleasure in the browsing of these marvellous pieces.

Madam Lott bustled over to take the robes for alterations, a sympathetic look in her eyes. No doubt the friendly shop lady saw the tracks on his back, the remnants of a cruel whipping he never spoke of. The cruelty he suffered at the hands of a man who should have cared for him.

Tobias Snape, Severus' father, a man Lily had only ever seen in passing, but his cruelty she'd seen in its various forms. Many a times had Sev sported bruises or a split lip, reluctant to speak of how his hurts came about. In her youth she hadn't thought much of it, assuming it was due to the roughness of how boys played. But as she grew older, that innocent assumption began to waver. Past the age of roughhousing with neighbourhood boys, yet those scrapes and bruises never stopped appearing.

The cruel reality of his situation finally clicked when she overheard her father speak to the young Severus in the living room before dinner. Lily had been helping her mother in the kitchen with peeling of the vegetables, and thought to recruit the talented potioneer for the activity as well. That was a time she hadn't meant to eavesdrop, when she overheard her father tell the boy gently that he could arrange for him to be moved to a household away from the abuse.

That had been the first she had ever realised that Severus lived in a household devoid of love. That the people that should have cared for him, hurt him instead. That the injuries that appeared upon his face and hands had been done by an adult over twice his size, older people who should have known better.

And that he hated any pity it garnered him.

He lost his temper with her father that day, and Lily wouldn't have needed to be eavesdropping to hear the tantrum he threw. By the time her mother came into the living room to investigate the commotion, Sev had run out of the house, leaving her very concerned father alone in brow furrowing thought.

Too proud to admit he needed help, too young to even know where to look for it. He was a magical boy stuck in an abusive muggle world, unable to leave his situation lest he close off the path to his future. Lily did not know how foster homes worked, but at the very least she knew it would have made Hogwarts attendance difficult.

And now he would be returning to that terrible situation within the turn of a month.

Fear and anger clawed at Lily's throat. The reality of Severus stepping foot into that evil household rattled her to the core. The scars of his suffering branded upon his back and on her mind, just one note of many a cruelty inflicted within that terrible home life.

How alone he must have felt that summer when he did not even have the shelter of the Evans household to turn to. The pain and the wastage he had suffered through, his thin emaciated form so obvious the thought now of the appalling neglect.

What would have happened had she not forgiven him?

What would have happened if he had not managed to win the school to his side? If the abuse from his peers continued, assaulting him from the two sides of his life. Lily felt sick with guilt, the memory of his tears of humiliation stirred starkly in her memory. How he must have felt that summer, after what happened mere weeks before he was sent back into that abusive household, how alone he must have been.

It was all Lily could do to hold back the tears when Madam Lott bustled back, fine robes in hand, a pair of black sleek trousers and a fine leather belt draped across her shoulder. With a wink she flipped over the sleeves to show the girl the little additions she had requested, bring a watery smile to the girl's face. Sev's hand darted from the curtain, accepting the offered garbs without exposing himself again to pitying eyes.

"And when you're done with that, come pick out your pair of shoes," Madam Lott called through the curtains, and with her charge delivered, the shop keeper hurried away, attending to another trio of customers with their inquiry over a pretty blue robe set.

Leaning against the curtained frame, Lily waited as he changed, slowly pushing through the miring thoughts within her head. Why hadn't any of the teachers done something for Sev? Surely they realised what his home life had been.

Lily closed her eyes, and listened to the rustle beyond the curtains, alone with Sev and her thoughts. "Sorry," she suddenly muttered, voice pitched low, so quiet she feared he mightn't have heard. "I never did enough to help." From beyond the curtains, the rustling paused.

"Don't be," he replied, his voice a similar pitch. "It was not your responsibility."

Not her responsibility. How easy a thought that would be, how easy a thought it had been. For that was the very words that carried her through her decision. It wasn't her responsibility to fight for him when he rebuked her help, to lose sleep over him, to cry over his spiralling morals.

It wasn't her responsibility to be his only true friend.

"I wish you'd told me," Lily muttered, blinking back the tears furiously.

She heard the rustling of fabric resume. "I told no one, Lily."

"I thought we were meant to be best friends!" She didn't mean to lay the guilt on so thick, but this was all very upsetting. He paused again, his silence stood weightily. Lily pushed past it with a rushed outburst. "I hate him!" She heard the sweep of fabric, as if Severus turned sharply to the curtains. "How could a man like him be allowed to be a father? How could he do that to his son?" A few heads turned in the shop, she knew she was being too loud but she was too upset to care. "I hate him! He's such a horrible man!" A man she'd never met, but she felt more certain of her statement than any she'd ever made. "And where's your mother in all this? How can she stand back and let this happen? How can-?"

"Enough!" Sev's strained voice lanced through the silence. "I don't want to talk about it."

Lily fell silent, the tears that had been on the verge spilt forth. Lily brushed them away quickly, willing herself not to make a scene in public. "Jus-just remember I'm here now," she warbled, unable to keep the tears from her voice. "You're not alone. Don't… don't just suffer in silence."

"I know." His voice sounded in her ear, almost making her start.

Severus stepped from the curtains, clad in garments that fit him better than anything she'd ever seen him wear. The sleek black material clung to his body, sweeping the length of his lean form giving him at least another foot of illusionary height. Silver embroidery stood beautifully against his high collar, sweeping down the folds and edges of his garb.

"Hello handsome," Lily greeted him with a watery lopsided smile.

Sev glanced up, a smile sitting uncertain upon his thin lips. His fingers ran down his silver embroidered sleave, and rested upon the form of the stitching Lily requested. The silver tendrils threaded itself around the corner of his sleeve, twisting into the form of a small doe, poised as if mid-leap up the length of his forearm. One for each sleave, worn on the outside for all to see.

"You once told me your doe Patronus meant that you loved me," Lily muttered slowly, indicating to the pattern that sat so starkly upon the black material. "I don't want you to believe any less of my own."

Trailing his fingers almost wistfully over the small embroidered creatures, Severus finally relented his hard-won smile.

* * *

May ended in noise and elation. Gryffindor won the Inter-House Cup, beating the equally undefeated Ravenclaw team in a nail-biting neck-to-neck match. It was only Gryffindor's capture of the Snitch that elevated them to victory, a victory shouted across the campus on the tongue of every figure clad in the red and gold.

Gryffindor Tower was a roiling mess of festivities and noise. Butterbeer had inexplicably appeared upon the tea tables, chilled and fresh from the kitchens. Still drenched in post-match sweat and clad in their team gear and colours, the Gryffindor House team stood forefront and centre, a well-earned spotlight.

Upon the shoulders of the rowdy group, Beaters Fabian and Gideon were hoisted up in the Gryffindor place of honour. Ordinarily, Beaters were not the stars of the match, but in this case it had been well deserved. In the final seconds of the match, the snitch had been spotted by the sharp eyed Ravenclaw Seeker, prompting a mad dash for the game-winning capture with the Gryffindor Seeker trailing too far behind.

In a last-ditch attempt, Fabian had body blocked a receiving Ravenclaw beater, taking a bludger but opening the way for Gideon to swoop in for a clean strike. He sent the aggressive projectile straight into the leading Seeker, sending him down in a flurry of blue and bronze and securing the capture for the Gryffindor Seeker.

A victory hard fought and well earned by the pair who risked limb and life for the final strike. The cup, hoisted up to them proudly by the hands of Sirius Black, one of the trio of valiant chasers who fought so hard to keep the score level. The other two however were oddly absent.

"Where's Captain Potter and Lieutenant McKinnon?" Lily asked as she swayed into the celebrating mass surrounding the victorious team. She had celebrated hard alongside her Housemates, matching drinks with the best of them. It was a pity butterbeer had so little alcohol content. Even after a year since she came of age, Lily had yet to properly partake in alcohol, and probably would not get a chance to this year. The imminent return to the muggle world would thrust her back into a society where she was still considered under aged.

"Hmm," Black pretended to muse with an obnoxious knowing grin on his less than sincere face. "If things went well I'd say they'd be at the hospital wing by now."

None of that sentence made sense. "Did one of them get hurt?" It hadn't seemed like an injury occurred, but who can say for sure in the speed and fury of the match?

"Well here's hoping no to the injuries," Black replied, unnecessarily enigmatically, hoisting himself out of the throng. "Now if you excuse me, I have to keep Prongs' appointment with Snivelly down in the dungeons."

Black always rubbed Lily the wrong way, not least because of his utter lack of respect for Severus, even after all his friends had long stopped the abuse. "I can promise you now, if you upset him with your insulting manner, I'm not going down there to run damage control for you." But even as she said that, she knew she would for the sake of Remus.

Just three sleeps to the full moon, tonight was a collection night. Lily had already spent four evenings in the lab, watching Sev take the potion through its final motions. A more complex step than the managing middling but far simpler than its gruelling beginnings. The end result each time had been this formless unappetising grey gloop that she knew the poor boy would have to put through his tasting reticle. Perhaps it was a good thing Lily never told him about how much rancid pork fat went into it.

"Well here's to hoping to catch him in a less foul mood then." Black took one last swig of butterbeer before stepping to the portrait hole. "Keep the party going for me would yah, my good Beaters?"

"Roger!" the twin Prewetts responded, doubling down on the bite-sized snacks that had inexplicably materialised on severing platters. It appeared there was a supporter down in the kitchens, perhaps that was where Peter was. Remus sat in his corner, quietly enjoying the evening while mildly fatigued by the oncoming moon. He was faring far better than usual under the influence of the draught.

In the corner, Mary had found a new flame, a boy from a younger year whose name Lily could not recall. They sat knee to knee in an armchair made for one, tongue deep down each other's throats. One armchair over, Susan watched on vividly scandalised, but seemingly unable to turn away, unlike Pandora who did not have the time of day for anything outside of her thick tomes of textbooks. It was a wonder why she even bothered to come down to the party at all. She had seemed to think her presence was a social obligation and treated it with as much solemn resignation as she would with any unpleasant burden. She had faithfully attended every Quidditch match celebration since the days where her elder brother Michael had been the Gryffindor Captain back in their first year.

Lily paced to the portrait hole, torn between her prefect sensibilities telling her to stay put and her Gryffindor desire to brave the curfew to sneak into the hospital wing. But in all honesty, Marlene was probably fine, Lily had watched her intently throughout the match and at no point had she feared for her friend's life and limbs. Black was probably stirring her up over nothing, like the troublemaker he was.

Then suddenly, it clicked.

 _Holy crap! Marlene and_ _ **James**_ _are missing!_

Such an obvious connection took Lily so long to make. And then with Sirius Black's, now painfully obvious innuendos, it was all coming together. Something happened post-match between the two, and that's why nobody in the team were too concerned that their captain wasn't celebrating alongside them.

Lily felt a hopeful grin stretch across her face, anticipation for good news on behalf of her best friend, hopeful that the divide she had caused with her thoughtless words would finally have cause to heal.

She spent the rest of the party hovering by the portrait hole, and after what felt like hours it finally swung open to admit the awaited pair.

"James!" roared Fabian, the shorter and stockier of the twins, calling attention to the pair from every eye in the room. "Grab a bottle and join in!"

"Great victory today!" James hollered back, while Marlene almost blanched at the attention. Not at all a usual reaction from her, but Lily didn't care. They came in together, Marlene wasn't in tears, and James was in a good mood. Whatever happened had to be good news.

With a not-so-subtle motion, the bespectacled boy turned to Marlene, his hand sweeping through his wildly wind-whipped hair. He held a hand out to her, a gesture that Lily felt was unmistakable for anything but a tender invitation, and then promptly felt surprise and aghast as Marlene took a step back.

"I really need a shower," Marlene mumbled, and the smile retreated from the eager boy's face, an almost sheepish look replaced it.

"Umm right," he mumbled. "As you should… umm."

To Lily's relief Marlene smiled. "It's fine James. Everything was… great," she uttered as she stepped back from the boy who now sported his usual self-satisfied expression. With another ruffle of his hair, he swaggered into the throng of revellers, sweeping up a cold bottle of butterbeer as he went.

It was all a fascinating sight to the eagerly eavesdropping Lily, trying so hard to figure out if everything worked out. It all seemed promising from what she could tell. Confusing, but promising. Marlene probably wouldn't appreciate Lily stalking her to the bathroom, but if everything went as well as Lily hoped it had, then at the very least her best friend shouldn't be mad at her anymore.

"So. You and James huh?" Lily courageously ventured as she approached the girl part way up the spiralling staircase up into the girls' dorm. On hindsight she probably shouldn't have snuck behind her bigger and burlier friend, but if truth be told she had never seen Marlene leap from her skin so badly. She usually had far tougher nerves than that.

Pressed against the wall, Lily grinned a little worried grin as her flailing friend froze, red faced and huffing. "What?" she gasped, her embarrassment making very little sense. "What did you say?"

"As in you and James…" Lily floundered, fearing she'd read everything terribly wrong. "I saw you two flirting and just thought… I mean…"

She shrivelled under the look of horror growing in Marlene's eyes. "Nothing happened!" her defensiveness speaking volumes of the opposite.

"Oh, okay." Lily held her hands up in a warding gesture. "I didn't mean to imply… I mean. I only thought he might have asked you out after the match or something. I thought you two might have become an item… or something."

The horror receded from the blond girl's face and a pale uncertainty sat in its place. "We are…. I think," the girl confirmed confusingly. "I'm pretty sure that we… Only we never said… Oh Merlin, Lil's, I don't know what I've done."

Alarmed, Lily leapt into best friend action. "Tell me what happened!" she demanded, concern overriding every bit of curiosity.

With a nervous bite of the lip, Marlene took the hand of her concerned friend and they slipped quickly into their dormitory. Throwing the door closed in a rush they huddled on top Marlene's bed covers and hiding behind the security of the posters. Had it not been for the worrying cloak and dagger, Lily would have thought it a nostalgic throwback to cosier times, instead she was forced to court concern as Marlene erected multiple privacy about the veiling curtains to the best of her shaky ability.

"What happened?" Lily beseeched despairingly, with a hand laid gently atop her best friend's.

Marlene's skin was pasty with a film of dried sweat, and her hair was untied and wildly in disarray, not at all out of place from the heart pounding House Cup deciding match she had just flown in. But her demeanour was as far from the victorious lion as one could get. "Umm well you see…" she preambled, jittering every nerve in the listening girl's body. "The rumour had somehow got around to James…"

Lily's heart dropped, white-hot guilt clawed up her throat at the memory of her own terrible role in that situation. "Yeah. Sorry," she muttered inadequately.

If Marlene still held that grudge she did not show. "Well… umm… James… umm… told me he'd answer me after we win today's match."

"And?" Lily insisted, eyes wide in worried expectation.

"And… well after the match we were all gathered in the locker room. After a short victory speech, he dismissed the team, and asked me to stay."

"And?" The tension was killing her.

"And… I guess… he was going to tell me what he decided."

Lily turned a confused eyebrow. "He didn't?"

"I didn't give him a chance," Marlene confessed sheepishly. "I snogged him before he got two words out."

The listening girl felt her jaw grow slack, an incredulous smile tickling the edges of her lips. Bold initiative. That was the Marlene she knew. "Really? How did he take it?"

"Umm… really well actually," Marlene mumbled, suddenly sheepish again. "I mean, I hadn't meant to derail him... I was just… hoping to delay his decision… Maybe sway him to my favour…" There was something intrinsically abashed about the way she was explaining this. "And then things kind of… spiralled out from there."

An empathetic smile touched Lily's lips, reminded suddenly of the day she discovered the power of mood and touch on male self-control. Even Severus lost his level-headed reasoning to the prospect of indulging sensations, Lily could venture a guess as to how a heart-over-head kind of guy like James would react.

"And I… kind of let it."

Lily's jaw hit the floor. "What?" She felt the creeping flush of red prickle up her neck. "You… he…?"

Marlene buried her face in her hands, her blush radiating through the gaps in her calloused but slender fingers. "I wasn't planning on it I swear. But he was up for it. And he was so handsome. And we were both drunk on the atmosphere…"

Lily didn't know what to say. What could she say? "No judgement," she offered with a weak smile, taking an inexpert leaf from Mary's book.

It didn't seem to help as the blond chaser groaned and buried herself deeper into her hands. "Just say it. I'm a slag."

"No. No. Not at all, Marlene," Lily floundered, at a loss to how best to reassure. If Mary was in her place she'd know what to say.

"And worst of all, we never got back to talking! I don't know if we're really actually a thing now or if I hadn't just given it away!"

"Umm," Lily floundered, mentally flailing with the situation. "I mean you like James, right? Isn't it a good thing he's your… first?"

"You don't understand, Lil's! Wizarding families aren't like muggles! We're super strict about these things!"

With the likes of Sirius Black, Lily would never have guessed. "Muggle families can be strict about this too," she offered weakly. "My dad wouldn't be pleased if I did what you did…" She trailed off, realising she wasn't helping."

Marlene groaned heavily, drawing her knees in to cradle herself while she knocked her forehead against her kneecaps.

"Honestly, I'm no good at this," Lily finally confessed, frazzled by the tailspin her friend had sent her in. This topic was definitely _not_ her forte. "Maybe you should talk to Mary? She's really good about-"

"No, Lily! Nobody can know!" Marlene demanded with an air of desperation.

Lily backpedalled immediately. "Zipped," she replied, bringing her fingers across her mouth in a very muggle secret keeping gesture. "But what are you going to do? I'm no good for advice."

Heaving a hefty sigh, Marlene knocked her head against her knee again. "I suppose I'll get my lion tail from between my legs and confront James for an answer," she muttered as Lily nodded eagerly and supportively. "But first a shower, I think."

* * *

It was a shame his new robes were too formal to really be of casual utility. Snape would have liked to wear something that did not feel like misery on his skin. That being said, there was no foreseeable way Snape could ever allow silver threaded sleeves anywhere near his potion bench, even with it tailored to hug his wrists. At the very least his new leather boots were exceedingly fine as everyday wear. A good thing too as his old leather shoes had grown at least four sizes too small and were split on both sides.

Garbed back in his scratchy school robes, Snape scowled restlessly at the door. The blasted Marauders were late again. He knew there was some Quidditch nonsense going on today, and heard rumours the Gryffindors might have some reason to celebrate, but all that meant to Snape was the idiotic possibility of the boneheads forgetting his appointment.

Unexpectedly the door opened, no knock to politely announce their presence at all. But that was completely unsurprising, considering his visitor was Sirius Black. It would have been far more of an achievement had the obnoxious boy displayed any level of etiquette.

"Certainly took your damned time," Snape spat, stoppering the faintly smoking brew and enchanting it unbreakable.

Black accepted it, far more carelessly than the precious vial of his friend's moonlit freedom should be worth, and did not make a hasty exit.

"I know you are new to this errand boy business and lack the brain capacity to figure it out yourself so I'll make it easy for you," Snape sneered. "That is what you were here to collect. There is nothing more. Leave."

But Black did not obey. Instead he swaggered in and made himself comfortable on a spare stool opposite Snape's workbench. "Actually, I kind of wanted to talk."

Snape bristled. The presumptive fool. "I don't. Leave!" he commanded, tone no longer civil.

"Oh, don't be like that, Snivelly," that infuriating boy drawled, as he propped his elbows onto Snape's yet uncleaned bench. "I feel we really need to talk, now that beating each other to a pulp is no longer a valid form of communication."

"Shame, I'll certainly miss hexing you on sight," Snape returned with vehemence. "Especially since nothing else seems to get the message across."

A wolfish smile stretched across Black's smooth face, yet untouched by the terrible lines that would carve through from his years spent in Azkaban. "It seems some things we do agree on. But alas, James does not see it that way." He glanced away, a seemingly nonchalant expression on his handsome face. "For you see, he's got this strange thought into his head. He seems to think he needs to apologise on his hands and knees."

A sneer touched Snape's face, a vicious rush of victory touched his core. Humiliation wrought on his enemy, readily given it seemed. "So he should."

"Would that make you forgive him?" Black continued in his careless casual way, eyes trailing about the shelves rather than meeting those he was talking to.

With a sneer the Slytherin answered, "No." Savouring the rush of anger that bubbled forth in Black's eyes, before he quickly suppressed it under that mask of feigned casualness.

"Considering how shitty you are, I don't think he did anything all that terrible," Black remarked, almost as if he was attempting to reason. "Your shittiness, and our shittiness kind of cancel each other out."

"Good to know. Get out." Snape's patience was at an end.

And so too was the Marauder's it seemed, for unable to maintain his façade of cool any longer Black slammed his hand on the table, causing the main cauldron to rattle on its stand and forcing Snape to make a swipe for it lest the foul liquid tip. A reckless way to treat his friend's salvation.

"What does it take?" the brash fool demanded. "I don't give a Fire Crab's arse about what you think but James got this noble fool's notion that he has to settle this, so what does it take?"

"He can start by dropping dead. Perhaps then I'll send a flower to his funeral," Snape snapped uncharitably, sealing the lid back onto that half-full cauldron and stowing it away into safety.

Black did not let matters drop. "It was your own evil behaviour that made things escalate! Your dogged determination to get us expelled! Your own evil arse and your own evil Death Eater friends! Everything that happened is on you!"

Snape spun around, eyes flashing with rage. "You drove me into that corner!" he roared, unable to maintain his own composure. "You gave me no escape! You forced me to seek collusion to protect myself, with ideals I did not care for! Do you honestly think that all members of Slytherin House follow that mandate unquestioningly?" But that hadn't been everything that had contributed to his fall. After all, he had been willing to take that step.

Black quietened, his fierce grey eyes cooling along with his angered snarl, an almost hesitant expression settled in its place. "Right well. Sorry I guess," he mumbled inadequately, sheepish but with little semblance of contrition.

"Leave," Snape commanded again, and this time the Marauder finally obliged, closing the door on a silent room.

* * *

A/N: I refuse to believe that in a school full of hidden rooms, secret passageways and hormonal teenagers that raunchy business doesn't go down.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 24th February 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 28: The Eyes Upon his Back**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	28. The Eyes Upon his Back

**Chapter 28: The Eyes Upon his Back**

Exams. That was all Lily wanted to focus on right now.

Between scrambling for space in the library, and finding an unoccupied armchair in the common room, Lily was feeling the pressure. She even tried to pull a Mary and read her textbooks undercovers, but the combination of overtiredness and comfort always put her to sleep within minutes. In desperation she heaved her textbooks down to her little alcove on the first floor and balanced a light ball above her head. It proved an apt solution, one that became very attractive very quickly to many of her friends, who likewise found the bed as an imperfect studying solution.

Unfortunately, Marlene had never been an eager study, and was far too easily bored. And doubly unfortunately, Susan was not currently present and that well-known gossip was the only girl that would have prevented conversation from heading in a raunchy direction.

"I tell you Lil's, Mary wasn't kidding about the first time. I don't recommend it, it was messy and painful, and neither of us had a clue what we were doing. Didn't help things that it happened in the locker room, straight after the match. That place ponged of sweat. Things were far better the second time around."

"There was a second time?" Lily's blush blended into her hair roots. In her lap sat her Transfigurations textbook, opened to the barely read chapter on Lifeform-Metamorphosis.

With almost a lascivious smile, Marlene winked. "Turned out he had this really nice room set up, just down the hall from Gryffindor tower. All candles and flowers and all the crap I don't like, but I can't fault his effort. Weird thing is I swear I've been up and down that hall way a million times and never noticed that room."

Marlene had been far more candid to Lily these past few weeks, ever since she and James became official. That evening after she first confessed to Lily her erroneous foray, after she showered and freshened, she finally descended into the party, and almost immediately James Potter was to her side, sweeping her up into a very public kiss in front of the cheering and hollering rabble. Any doubts that chaser might have had over the whole affair seemed to have fled her that very night.

So, began a relationship between the two Gryffindor Quidditch heroes, very much in the public eye. Even Lily felt her eye caught enviously by those easy smiles exchanged, those playful touches and tickles. Their relationship had a fun spontaneity that Lily's lacked, something by no means anyone's fault. She knew what she was in for when she had embarked upon a relationship with a brilliant boy saddled with crippling self-esteem issues.

"One does wonder how hush you're actually keeping this," Lily muttered, eying Pandora sympathetically. That girl had been hard at studying for the past two hours, not even looking up when the conversation began and subsequently derailed. She never took much notice of social gossip, nor was keen to perpetuate it, making her presence too easily overlooked in private affairs.

Such as with Marlene's private forays. "Oh Pandy? She's not going to tell anyone, are you Pandy?"

The young McGonagall looked up from the pages of her text and blinked blankly, evidently not catching a single word before her name had been called. Marlene grinned and waved her back to her oblivion, content with Lily's attention.

"I can tell with your flustered response that your pet gargoyle hasn't gotten anywhere near your under-layers."

With a spark of irritation, the furiously blushing girl launched to the defence of her boyfriend. "Stop with the name calling! He's Severus. Got it? Don't call him anything else!"

Not even a little contrite, Marlene continued, "I'm just saying, I can totally understand why you're not eager to dive into the sack with Se-ve-rus. You might be able to stomach his ugly mug for a snog but can you honestly tell me you want to see him with his gear off?"

"I'll have you know I've already seen him without his top!" Lily retorted hotly, provoked well too easily.

The blond girl tipped one ash eyebrow. "Uhhuh? And did that get you all warm and fuzzy?"

"None of your business," the reddening girl snapped and turned her eyes away. Truth be told there hadn't been any time to assess anything other than those terrible white welts gouged across his back, no emotions to be indulged other than deep resonating heartache.

"Well if that didn't do the trick, I can guarantee you now that nothing below that would do the trick either," Marlene continued to dig savagely.

Lily's eyes narrowed, sick and tired of her friends making light of that terrible traumatic incident. "You know what? You convinced me. I'll take James Potter back thank you." From Marlene's sudden pale wide-eyed look, she took her words as a threat on some level. "It seems like it's a good thing that I'm far more interested in Sev than your James, isn't it?"

"Wow, that was rather catty of you," Marlene mumbled sheepishly.

"The warning lights were on," Lily returned.

"Look. Lil's." Marlene leaned back. "All I'm saying is that you're worth so much more than him. You can definitely do better!"

Lily sighed, surrendering to the fact she would never be able to convince Marlene otherwise. "Let's just get back to studying."

* * *

Exams swept by neatly and comfortably, despite Snape's additional pressure of brewing responsibilities. He found no extra dedicated study time had been needed on top of his already comfortable regime, and as expected his written and practical exams proved no challenge. Even the reportedly difficult Alchemy theory exam had followed a simple logical course, easy to accomplish for the well prepared.

Lily on the other hand looked more and more frazzled by the day. By the time of the last scheduled exam, she wouldn't stop holding on to him while they waited before the doors to the testing room, claiming she needed the support to make it through the hours to come.

That was a needlessly dramatic way to put it, but Snape did not deny her this desired comfort, even through the judgemental stares of those around him. He couldn't help but feel she expected something of him however, especially when she took his arm and manually draped it around her, then huffed in a dissatisfied way as if it irked her he didn't do so automatically.

As it were, their last exam, Defence Against the Dark Arts, passed without incident. From Lily's bright relieved smiles afterwards, it appeared the trial had been as fruitful for her as it had been for him. Indeed, she had been out of the exam hall, at least an hour before exam's end, smiling confidently. Snape on the other hand had finished as well but spent the remaining one and a half hours proof reading. By the time the call for quills down was issued, Snape joined the hoard of groaning bleary-eyed examinees pouring out the door to freedom.

"How'd you find it?" Lily asked as she met him in the hallway, evidently leaving the exam early to spend the rest of the time waiting by the door. A baffling action. If she was going to wait, she might as well have done so in front of her papers.

However, he was wise enough to know not to let a single word of that thought past his lips. "Uncomplicated," he answered, hefting his bag with a gentle motion. It has now survived well past its original intended lifespan due to his pre-emptive treatment, but he could not shake the feeling that every consideration he gave it now was just palliative care.

"Well I thought question twelve-b was sort of tricky," Lily continued. "The one about the legality of certain types of curses and the classification of Dark Arts awarded for others."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "It was clearly explained in chapter thirty-two of the text book, legalities of defensive magic."

Wrong tone to take, wrong words to say. He had noted his error before Lily bristled. "Excuse me for not remembering a single paragraph in an eight hundred page tome!"

The Slytherin quickly backpedalled, lowering his eyes in contrition. He was saved from the effort of clobbering together an apology by the arrival of Lily's blond Gryffindor friend. "That was traumatic Lil's!" she exclaimed, sweeping the fuming girl into a spine-cracking hug. "There were words, but only half of them looked English!" Another Gryffindor that approached exams underprepared. One of the comforting constants of his life.

"Well Marlene, apparently to Severus, not knowing the answers means we're a couple of slackers." Lily shot a glare over her friend's shoulder. Snape only felt his assertion a little more justified.

The girl, the usurper best friend, Marlene, and if he recalled correctly, McKinnon, drew away and offered the Slytherin boy a dark smirk. "Trouble in paradise?" That certainly jingled alarm bells in Snape's head. Before any clarification could be sought however, James Potter swooped in and scooped the blond girl into an entirely too physical embrace.

"James!" the girl exclaimed with a wide laughing smile, making a show of twisting out of Potter's grip. The boy loosened his hold just enough for the girl to turn and plant a shameless kiss on the Gryffindor boy's lips.

 _Well this is a new development._ Snape thought to himself, and certainly not unwelcome. Potter apparently moved on quite quickly and sought different avenues with another woman, setting a far more comfortable distance between him and Lily.

Lily on the other hand seemed adversely affected by this development, from the wistful misery she stared on with. Snape's heart twisted painfully at the thought of her having second thoughts about giving up Potter. Finally, the regret of choosing a hideous Slytherin over that handsome Gryffindor was setting in. Snape scowled and glared away, hating the stabs of betrayal that lanced through him.

Potter's smile dipped as he finally noticed the Slytherin's presence. "Snape," he greeted evenly, releasing his female companion from their tasteless entanglement. Snape however could not even bring himself to meet Potter's eyes, let alone act civil. He glared off to the side, furiously ignoring the boy.

Appearing unoffended, Potter continued to pursue conversation. "Hey so you know, us in Gryffindor are having another party for the last day of the school year. I wanted to invite you." From his girlfriend's aghast expression, apparently this wasn't discussed.

"The last place I want to be is in that hellhole of a chaotic noise maker you call a common room," Snape sneered, causing Lily's green eyes to flicker to him, catching his with her brief flicker of disappointment.

Snape turned to regard her with a doubtful eye, but Lily had already turned away. Frustration was beginning to gnaw at him, the sudden feeling of disconnect bothered him greatly, and instilled him with unexplainable fear. Her waking up to reality was always going to be an eventuality…

"Many in my House are returning to hostile family situations, especially since the shift in House doctrine," Snape growled suddenly, incensed to offer an alternative explanation for a decision that shouldn't have surprised anyone. "I wish to spend my last day reassuring their chosen paths."

That did it, Lily's bright green eyes glanced up again, this time sparkling with her smile. "You're amazing Sev!" She wrapped her hands around his lean waist, and he could not help but feel his brief respite was unjustly earned.

"Noble goal," Potter agreed with a grin and a nod, even that Marlene girl relented an unsteady smile. "And I would like to help out. Why not invite them up for the party as well?"

Snape's brows immediately knitted together, he was unable to think of a more ridiculous idea. "How in Merlin's name would that ' _help'_?"

Potter appeared un-dissuaded. "Well, think about it. Your goal is to make them feel like they're part of a greater community, and nothing makes people feel like they belong like getting invited to a party," he reasoned with his baffling logic. Evidently this man has never heard of the concept of introversion.

"That's a great idea!" Lily exclaimed, evidently sharing a train of thought far closer to that loathsome boy.

"I do not believe they need a spat following them into their months of isolation," Snape scathed, because how could they not predict that was exactly what was going to happen with a noticeable number of Slytherins and Gryffindors forced to share proximity.

Potter appeared unmoved by logic. "Oh, come off it. Your Slytherins need to see the rest of the school are behind their shift too. I thought the point was to bring them out of isolation?"

The idea had merit, though Snape was loath to admit it. "That still does not guarantee us amnesty."

"Anyone piss up the party, they'll answer to me and Sirius. How's that?" Potter offered confidently, not even considering the possibility that his damnable Black might be the source of that 'piss up'.

"I will… speak to members of my House on your… offer," was Snape's polite non-committal end of discussion, but from the wide smiles from the Gryffindors minus McKinnon, he had as good as locked in a guarantee.

Lily's hands loosened their grip about his waist as she reached up to take his. With an almost casual motion she draped it about her shoulder, then subsequently was unable to meet the eyes of Potter's new flame. It was a disconcerting situation, one that reeked of words exchanged outside his awareness.

A certain jealousy about her, an emotion too familiar to Snape, whenever she glances upon her friend. And the fact that the jealousy was directed to the female companion of that abhorrent Potter was a concept too upsetting to contemplate.

* * *

"Are you sure they weren't taking the piss?" asked Mulciber gruffly as he stared at the stretch of empty wall.

Snape glowered, beginning to feel the fool as he paced up and down that brief stretch of hallway he had been directed to. Several young Slytherin eyes glanced up at him searchingly, looking less and less certain about this course of action.

As it turned out Potter's proposal proved popular with the Slytherin cohort, with many of the younger ones jumping at the chance to socialise with their rival House. The chance of peer approval proved an alluring prospect indeed. The chance to escape from the isolation that their House seemed to demand.

Of course, this entire endeavour would likely flip opinions on its head if it had all turned out to be an elaborate prank played by the king of the Marauders. A last hurrah to ended open hostilities. The exact sort of ill-thought out diplomatic nightmare of a prank concocted by those near-sighted dunderheads. He would feel entirely ridiculous having brought out his newly tailored fine robes for this social farce.

It was with the utmost relief that a door suddenly appeared in the all-too-solid wall, and he was subsequently almost glad for the sight of the bespectacled Gryffindor boy who welcomed them. Almost.

"Welcome, welcome, to the soon-to-be annual end of year party! Food is to the left wall, drinks are down the middle. Fun is wherever you look for it!" Snape glowered scathingly at this ridiculously cheerful welcome speech, and pushed past the boy without another glance of acknowledgement. The other Slytherins followed on hesitantly, stepping past the smiling Gryffindor who held open the door with one hand, and a scrappy piece of parchment in the other. A strangely familiar parchment, which was an odd sentiment to apply to parchment.

Before him, the room stretched out in all directions, a surprising volume for a room installed so close to the exterior walls. The benefit of magical space conservation he supposed. Music blared loudly from a corner of the room, already occupied by a jumble of energetic red. Among those numbers however, the occasional blue or yellow persisted, suggesting this expanded party had not been simply for the benefit of improved relations between Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Aligning the left wall, exactly where Potter had described it, was a literal buffet table. There was a ten foot stretch of plate upon plate of finger foods of all varieties. From cheese and fruit cracker combinations, to sophisticated prawn cocktails, and then again to tiny little cut up pastry wrapped sausages intended for the far more easily pleased crowds. This party seemed to be fully catered by the Hogwarts kitchens, one had to wonder how much extra work those House Elves were taking on on behalf of these demanding children.

To the right of the room, armchairs and couches were arranged chaotically around a cosy fire pit, the flames that sat within glowed blue and burned cold, cooling the room with waves of frost. Many chairs were already occupied with the more introverted of the crowd, content to simply socialise beyond their usual House dynamics. Snape already planned his afternoon around this area.

Down the centre of the room stood great barrels, propped upon stands and armed with dispensing taps for whatever drinks they held within. Snape wondered if any of them held plain water, he didn't hold much hope for coffee.

Already the Slytherins were beginning to make themselves comfortable around these barrels, cups flying up to greet all those who approached.

"Chilled Butterbeer straight from our House stores," an older Hufflepuff boy announced proudly to the approaching throngs. "We get barrels of the stuff available all year 'round in the common room. Seemed appropriate to share the hospitality."

From beside him a tall Hufflepuff girl nodded once in solemn agreement with too static a continence for a member of the reputedly friendliest House in Hogwarts. It wasn't until several long seconds of staring that Snape figured out why she had caught his eye.

That Hufflepuff was Amelia Bones, the future head of Magical Law Enforcement and a near permanent thorn in Snape's side. Though the repenting man's own Death Eater trial saw him absolved of his numerous crimes, Madam Bones never forgave his roots. She called on him again and again over the course of the years to set his crimes at his feet, forcing Dumbledore to pull every favour he had with Wizengamot to ensure no charge ever stuck. It resulted in years of tension between the headmaster and his magisterial colleagues.

It wasn't just Bones proving to be a familiar face; all around him were people who directly tied into his previous life, his possible future. The gangly Ravenclaw boy with straw coloured hair, hovering awkwardly by the floating plates of the buffet table was Bartemius Crouch, a fourth year boy who would bring about the second coming of the darkness. An expectation nobody could possibly conceive for that unassuming boy.

Even that blond McKinnon girl who sat comfortably chatting with two of her female friends was beginning to ring familiarities in his mind. For the McKinnon clan was completely wiped out in the closing years of this coming war.

Tragedies of his past, tragedies to be in this coming future, weight upon weight on his now-young and forever thin shoulders. A pressure he could feel pressing straight into his core.

"Sev, what are you doing just standing there?" came Lily's laughing voice. He turned to greet her with an unsmiling nod, causing her smile to falter. "I'm beginning to think you don't know how to party."

There was no point arguing that fact. "You are not incorrect with your assertion."

A smile touched her lips, responding again, no doubt, to humour he hadn't intended. "Come on. Let's grab a drink and sit down and you can orientate yourself to this culture shock."

It was as sensible a suggestion as anything he could come up with so he followed her down to those barrels, passing by the yet un-incensed Amelia Bones. A dimpled pint mug levitated from its stores, offering itself handle first to the approaching Slytherin, a mechanism no doubt designed to reduce cutlery loss among these careless children.

"This butterbeer is really quite nice." Lily recommended cheerfully with a smile to the approving hurrah of the Hufflepuff boy. "It's seriously comparable to the ones served by Madam Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks."

A comparison that fell upon ignorant ears, for Snape had never partook in that drink. As a child he could not afford to, and as an adult he had outgrown any desire to partake. Taking a sip of the chilled sweet liquid, he suppressed a shudder, finding himself unmoved by the experience. By comparison Lily was happily gulping down her mug as she tugged Snape towards the chairs, thankfully the furthest point from the cacophony of the dance pit.

By the time their rear ends touched the plush of a long couch, Lily had already sported a foam moustache, and seemed blissfully unaware of her new accessory. Snape was mercifully distracted by the momentary ethical dilemma of the most appropriate way to inform her so. That was likely a dangerous idea, perhaps some words were wisest left unsaid.

Snape glanced away, trailing his eyes across the greens within this room, observing how they were getting along in this environment. Already he saw Lester adopted by a large horde of Hufflepuffs, talking animatedly about his experiences as a muggle in a reputedly muggle-hating House. Urquart had engaged the younger McGonagall in what seemed like a deeply philosophical conversation. A situation that tickled an amusing titbit in Snape's memory of their respective uncle and aunt's future marital situation. He wondered briefly if either of these two realised there was courtship going on between their families already.

Around the room, the Houses were beginning to disperse, little clumps of green breaking off their familiar groups to engage members of other Houses. In one of the armchairs near the corner, the young Slytherin girl Priya was chatting animatedly to a Hufflepuff of similar ethnic descent, their entwined hands speaking of something more than just casual conversation.

It took Snape a moment to recognise the boy as the seventh year prefect, Raj Patil, father of the twins Padma and Parvati. If Priya is indeed to be their mother then their family would have the entire spectrum of Hogwarts covered. It also meant that second Slytherin girl with the upturned nose, shooting the Ravenclaw boy death glares from across the room, was likely Pippa Parkinson, the aunt of Pansy Parkinson. The Ms Parkinson of his student cohort had always been a friend of the Patil twins. A strange anomaly explained by this observation, a possible bond of friendship between their families.

"You're being awfully quiet," Lily began, a smile etched lightly into her lips. "More than usual."

Snape turned his dark gaze back onto her, suddenly conflicted about mixing duties with pleasure. "My apologies, I did not intend to ignore you. I have concerns about how my charges are faring in this unfamiliar territory. Party is not a known Slytherin habitat."

The smile widened upon her lips. "Aww look at you. Mother henning them." She wrapped her arms about his waist. Pulling him in close, he privately cringed at the worry she might accidentally wipe her butter beer moustache on his only set of good robes. A fear he apparently did not internalise completely enough, for she hesitated, smile fleeing to a sudden frown. "What's wrong?" she asked to Snape's floundering mind.

"Hey Lil's! You got butterbeer on your face!" McKinnon's voice rang out as she bounded past, flashing a grin to the startled Lily. That blond Gryffindor slid by, headed to James who stood by the door to this esoteric room.

Black leered at her in his usually tasteless way. "Hey Marlene. Looking good." No doubt referring lecherously to how formfitting her robes were.

"Bite me, Sirius," the fiery girl retorted.

"Can't. Me mate's got dibs."

And with an exchange of knowing smiles, she wrapped about Potter, locking his lips in a promiscuous and frankly tasteless show of public intimacy.

With a muttered wave of her fingers Lily conjured a handkerchief, wiping her face quickly with that polka dotted square. "And when were you going to tell me?" She directly to her boyfriend with an upraised eyebrow. In response he quickly took a draught of his own pitcher of sweet foulness, in the hopes he'd be excused from answering.

"Was that the reason you didn't want me to touch you?" she asked suddenly, bright green eyes looking up at his, searchingly.

"I didn't not want you to touch me," Snape mumbled in return. Lily was one of the greatest sources of pleasure in his life, he could not be happier that she felt him worthy of her touch.

Slowly her fingers threaded together, arms locked around her waist once again, her cheek pressed against the fine material of his new robes. "Why don't you ever want to touch me?" she muttered suddenly, a baffling question in of itself.

 _Last time I touched you without cause, it led to a terrible misunderstanding_ , he thought but refused to say aloud, heat still rising from the memory of that incident.

Lily sighed, leaning into his chest. "I always have to be the one that seeks you out, always me that has to hug you first."

Snape moved his hands to rest them about her shoulders, feeling exceedingly self-conscious as he did so. Even now he could feel stares upon them, feel the derisive mutters whisper behind his back. The thought behind every glancing look flickering his way.

 _She's too good for him._

No matter how fine the garb he wore, no matter how well he groomed himself, he would never be an attractive man, a fact that Lily had never seemed to be too phased by. But eventually she too will feel the wear of the comments that follow. Snarky mutterings from students of present and future. Perhaps her mind too will eventually change, worn down by opinion of her peers. A change that felt too close on the horizon, with the wistful glances he's seen Lily cast Potter's way.

Snape ground his teeth at the thought of that hateful boy, even with another girl in his arms he was still derailing the Slytherin boy's life. Was there no way to win?

Fingers trailed down the smooth sleaves of his jet-black robes, Lily traced the silver embroidery, running her fingers over the outline of the silver doe. "Do you think you'll ever be comfortable around me?" she muttered so quietly, he almost didn't catch it.

This was not a conversation Snape could comfortably have in the midst of so many people. He was almost relieved when distraction arrived in the form of Mulciber, plopping himself heavily down on the opposite end of the couch causing it tilt slightly to that side. Plate in one hand, piled with appetisers, and what could only be described as a jug of butterbeer in the other, he glared at his conundrum.

"Hey Snape, mind conjuring me a table?" he asked obtrusively.

Though Snape was thankful for the excuse to untangle himself from this uncomfortable direction of conversation, it did not stop him from being scathing. "Dozens of people you could have graced with your presence and for some reason you've chosen to disturb me." He slipped from Lily's arms to oblige the fool in his ill-thought out gluttonous conundrum. He conjured a compact round table for Mulciber's end of the couch, and made it wobbly on purpose.

"Appreciate it," the boy supplied, no longer taking Snape's bristly personality personally, or bothered by the deliberately shoddy conjure work. In recent days Snape's less than amicable nature had been taken by most in his House as his type of humour, dealing a terrible blow to his intimidation factor.

Lily detached herself and slumped into the plush back of the couch, a little unhappy with the turn of events. Still, it didn't stop her from being friendly. "Hello Mulciber," she greeted politely, apparently willing to be civil despite their encounter nearly a year ago.

"Evans," he returned a little stiffly, with a shrimp tail dangling from his mouth, from the fullness of his cheeks it seemed he had far more than just one morsel churning around in there.

The Mulciber Snape remembered was a proud man, right up to his final memories; Mulciber challenging Professor Flitwick to a duel within the chaos of Hogwarts ground, and being flung unconscious into the lake for his efforts. That was where his life time's Mulciber most likely ended although perhaps things could be different for him as well this time around.

Any discomfort building between the potential pureblood supremacist and muggle-born witch was mercifully pushed into the background by the arrival of Lily's gaggle of girlfriends. A relief Snape could only feel but briefly as he lowered his head, hoping to weather out their notice.

"Urgh that Marlene. I didn't expect her to be so tasteless," Susan griped, glaring at her aforementioned friend who sat tangled with Potter in a single person armchair, locked a very public and very sensual kiss. This sentiment Snape could definitely get behind as he sent a scowl their way as well. Had he his professorial powers…

"Oh, leave them alone," the second muggle born Gryffindor chastised, the too liberal voice of Mary. She even managed to grace Mulciber with a polite nod, even after all that happened between them. In what would have only been just the previous year for them. She had almost been disfigured painfully by his application of a branding curse, the vile word _mudblood_ , right across her forehead. "Nice robes, Snape," she offered in a friendly way. Snape returned her a nod.

Even the younger McGonagall disengaged herself from her conversation with Urquart, floating over to this frankly alarming concentration of girls. "You sorted your sordid affairs too?" Susan growled, seemingly deeply unhappy with the situation.

"Urquart and I are simply friends," McGonagall answered.

"Here I thought he's the anonymous admirer," Mary lamented.

"Oh he is," McGonagall confirmed in her oddly unfazed way. "And we've diplomatically settled the matter."

Snape internally winced, he glanced to the aforementioned boy now sitting alone, oddly nonplussed. Untouched by broodiness, his sunken eyes stared blankly outwards, fine brows slightly pinched in a contemplative expression.

"What's the problem with this one?" Susan scathingly continued. "Doesn't seem that ugly."

"None of your business," the young McGonagall cheerfully retorted.

Mary settled herself longingly beside Lily, displacing the couple sideways closer to Mulciber. "Probably not clever enough for her," she muttered with a roll of her eyes. A very unfair assessment of that particular Slytherin boy, but Snape was unwilling to voice a defence.

"Again. None of your business."

Snape turned away, surrendering to the fact that Lily's friends were likely going to absorb her attention. Mulciber huffed a seemingly sympathetic sigh, setting his empty mug back on the conjured table next to his long empty plate. "Plans for the holidays, Snape?" was his tragic attempt to make small talk.

"Nothing different than usual," Snape answered, simply grateful for a form of reprieve from the inane chatter buzzing by Lily's side.

"Ah to enjoy the breaks without a worry," the hulking boy mumbled. "I miss those days."

"What have you to worry about?" Snape scathed. The boy usually doesn't have an alternative thought in his head, the most vacuous specimen of Slytherin life he had ever encountered.

Mulciber appear momentarily sullen, seeming to struggle with what he wanted to say. An unsurprising issue considering his affinity with words, or lack thereof. "Well… This would be the first time I've seen my father since…"

Since his disassociation with the Death Eater youths in Hogwarts. The full extent of the boy's issues suddenly struck Snape. Owen Mulciber was not the only Mulciber to be in service of the Dark Lord. His father was rumoured to have been one of the first Death Eaters, even before the term Death Eater had been coined.

"Things will not be easy. I understand if you find it necessary to do what you have to," Snape offered, hoping the boy will heed Slytherin caution and play to caution despite his ineptitude in the arts. Though this Death Eater is Mulciber's father, he was a man of deep and vile darkness. It would not be too outlandish to think he would not forgive his own son for even mild transgressions. And a more difficult home life was not an experience Snape wished on anybody.

A sullen look passed the hulking boy's face. "For what it's worth I don't hate what you tried to do. And if things have to change next year, well…" He held out his massive paw of a hand to which Snape overcame his aversion of touch to take in a firm shake.

"My best wishes, for your ordeal with your father," Snape offered solemnly, a sentiment that brushed too close with his own ordeals.

"What's wrong with your father?" Susan asked as her head swivelled around as if summoned by the mere sound of what could constitute as gossip. A girl after Petunia's dead frigid heart.

Surprisingly forthwith, Mulciber answered her, "My father's a Dark Wizard. He's not going to be happy about what happened in Slytherin."

Susan gasped and quickly settled herself in the tight gab between the Slytherin boys. "What are you going to do?" she asked, eyes wide, her entire body language screaming 'tell me more.'

Snape wrenched himself from the crush of bodies, irritated by the noise and chaos of this sudden unwelcome conversation and company. Lily glanced up, her bright eyes searching out his, questioning.

"Sitting with Urquart," he answered that unasked question, and hurried away before he attracted any more attention. He was mildly disappointed that Lily hadn't excused herself from her friends to come along with him, or Mulciber for that matter, who appeared oddly comfortable for someone enduring a barrage of prying questions.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he exited that sphere of noise, settling into an armchair before the quiet Urquart, content to simply share space and wallow in the far more easily ignorable ambient cacophony of the dance floor. He had the misfortune of having Remus Lupin sitting together amongst their cluster of quiet chairs, but at the very least that dark creature was asleep and quiet.

"Did she say anything?" Urquart asked, expression unchanged.

"No," Snape replied, and they both returned to their comfortable silence.

Snape would have been content to spend the rest of this infernal party in this corner had it not been for the sudden appearance of Gryffindors. Marauders at that, just what he needed to ruin his day further.

"You boys really know how to party," Potter offered no doubt sarcastically as he sat himself in the spare armchair, mug of butterbeer in hand. His girlfriend no long wrapped about his body or attached to his lips.

Snape glared hatefully at the boy, daring him to ruin his semblance of peace, only to feel his heart drop as Black stepped up beside his best friend, bringing his own armchair along. "Heya James, I don't think any more party-goers are coming," he remarked as he offered that parchment for Potter's appraisal. That Pettigrew had the sense to duck his head down and hide away from Snape's dour glares. The coming full moon assured the damnable werewolf curled docile in his armrest and would not be harassing Snape at the very least.

A similar parchment that suddenly leapt from Snape's memory, beaconed by its association with the term 'Prongs.' He snatched the parchment from Black's careless fingers, causing the boy to stand with a snarl, hands balled into fists. Potter placed a hand upon his friend's shoulder, forcing him back into his seat as Snape scowled at what he saw in his hands.

An incredibly accurate ink display of the school was sprawled out before him. Each corridor painstakingly drawn to measure, room labelled and inhabitant marked, their names following their moving dots about, every hidden nook and cranny on full display. That cosy little hidden alcove that Lily liked to hide in was clearly drawn upon the map, sending Snape's stomach into loops at the thought of the blasted Marauders bearing witness to the humiliating misunderstanding that occurred within its confines.

And upon the upper edge of the parchment, inked proudly in display, was the four names 'Messer's Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs.' This was that blasted parchment that Potter child had held. The Infuriating and exceedingly belated realisation of how that troublemaker was able to do what he did for all those years, compounded further by the realisation he had personally delivered the damnable item straight to one of its main proprietors in chief. Even after the sundering of the Marauders they had still somehow managed to generate so much grief in his life.

"Satisfied your curiosity, Snape?" Potter asked evenly as he held his hand out. "I'd like it back." Snape glared furiously, his grievances of two lifetimes inciting him towards non-cooperation, the map held tightly in his crumpling grip.

"Sev, you'll break it," Lily's voice sounded in his ear as gentle hands reached around his shoulder and eased his fingers from the parchment. Biting down hard against his bitter anger, Snape allowed the Gryffindor girl to relieve him of the map, unable to bring himself to stop her from handing it back.

In a lithe motion, Marlene McKinnon slipped beside Potter, exchanging an easy kiss with her boyfriend "Interesting choice in company," she remarked with a smile not intended for anyone but that bespectacled horror of a boy.

"Just wanted a moment to recuperate," Potter remarked with a grin. "Thought the quietest place would be around Snape. He has the incredible power to chase away conversation and fun."

Lily laughed, sending a flush of annoyance through Snape. At the very least he had hoped she would never laugh at his expense again.

"Me and Lil's were just headed for the dance floor," McKinnon remarked in a worrying suggestive tone. "Coming?"

"It would be my pleasure," Potter returned with wide toothy smile, and stood without another word. Black shot Snape one last glare before following his friend into standing, tucking that wretched map into his sleeve as he went.

Lily turned her brilliant green eyes to Severus, almost pleading in her expressiveness. Snape was aghast at the thought that she might actually wish for him to accompany her into that din. "I do not wish to abandon Urquart to solitude," he lied lamely.

"Please don't use me as an excuse," the boy muttered uncooperatively.

Out of options Snape brushed a little closer to the truth. "I also don't dance," he growled, causing Lily's eyes to drop, disappointment palpable. "Fine," He barked, climbing to his feet, unable to weather her disappointment. HHe was becoming ridiculously easy to manipulate.

"I'm not going to give you a chance to change your mind." Lily grinned as she took his hand, dragging him in the direction of the head splitting racket.

Snape gritted his teeth at the prospect, he felt those judgemental eyes again, the laughing that never stops shadowing his wake. He did not mean to drag his heels but Lily felt his intent and stopped midstride, turning to him with those big concerned green eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her bright green eyes wide, almost pleading for him to answer. But how could he? If she did not feel the mockery that followed her by just association with him, how could she understand how he felt? That he was embarrassed on her behalf, embarrassed to be him.

Slowly her eyes drew away again, a wistfulness about her gaze. "It's fine, let's just sit down again," she muttered, as her eyes pointed the opposite way. Gazing at the two Gryffindors parting the dance floor with their haphazard dancing. A terrible longing that tied Snape's nerves into knots.

"Are you regretting it?" he asked, unable to keep the venom from his voice. A tone he tried his best to suppress, but Lily was too sensitive a soul to not detect it. She turned back to him, eyes wide with concerned confusion. Through his ground crooked teeth Snape elaborated, tasting the bitterness of the question, "Are you regretting choosing me over Potter?"

Surprise flitted across her features. "What no? What? Why did you ask that?"

Why, she asks. He couldn't tell if she was lying by proxy. He couldn't tell if she was pretending to be surprised by this line of thought. Snape couldn't answer, he glowered determinedly away, internally cringing with the realisation he's set all the predetermined variables for making a scene.

He felt her hands upon his cheeks, directing him to look forcefully towards her. "Sev. If there's something, say it." Her brows pinched with concern. "Don't let misunderstanding pile upon misunderstanding. You have to talk to me for us to work."

He could feel those eyes upon him again, those snippets of scathing voices heard between each beat of the loud and lively music. But her eyes did not waver from his, self-consciousness did not touch her countenance. "… You keep… glancing at Potter," he forced out, no doubt she could feel the heat from his flushed cheeks from beneath her palms.

"Oh." Her eyes widened, not even her expression was denying the fact. "About that…" A momentary sheepishness passed through her features, sending sparks of fear skittering about Snape's heart. "Can you keep a secret?" she asked, suddenly sheepish. Without waiting for his answer, she continued, "I am a little jealous of Marlene."

Snape's face fell, dejection clawing at his heart. Almost immediately, Lily jumped in to correct his misconceptions. "It's not about James. It's so not about James! Well… maybe a little…" A frown touched his brows, he was unsure of what to make of this statement. Lily bit her lips in a surprisingly shy way, paving the way for a confession Snape hadn't expected. "We're not exactly keeping it a secret that we're dating, but if there's just one other person near us, you just about never touch me, Sev. I'm… well, jealous by how open Marlene's relationship is. She and James are so at ease with each other. They're so playful, and spontaneous. And I know it's not your fault-" Lily quickly added, cutting off Snape's protest, "-but sometimes… I don't know. I kind of wish you'd be… just a little more affectionate?"

Snape's mouth opened and closed, suddenly at a loss for words. The fact that Lily actually wanted him to be more publicly conspicuous with his affection was not the direction he expected this admission to take.

With a steeling draw of breath, Snape held out his hand. Lily took it without hesitation, but looked at him questioningly. "I only know how to waltz," was his only reply as redness radiated up his neck.

* * *

A/N: Snape doesn't seem like the kind of guy who is the life of the party. Everything was specifically designed to be the worst nightmare of an introvert with social anxiety. It's one of those situations where you feel like telling him "Oh my god! No one is watching you!" But anyone with social anxiety could tell you, it's not that simple.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 10th March 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 29: The Prince and the Pauper**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	29. The Prince and the Pauper

**Chapter 29: The Prince and the Pauper**

With the beginning of holidays came the desolation that always accompanied Snape on the journey down to London on the Hogwarts Express. One would think after twenty years since graduation he'd forget the cloistering frustration at the thought of returning home, but here it was, clinging to his heart and mind, a childhood worry that he never outgrown.

Snape had spent the carriage ride with the Slytherins of various year groups. A last reassurance before sending them off to face the pressures of their families. A concern so similar to his own, a concern only someone like him could understand.

Lily patrolled past his compartment on occasions, carrying out her prefectural duties as was decreed. This was one of the reasons he elected not to sit with her for the journey back, the fact that she would disappear regularly and leave him alone with her harrowing friends. At least with his Slytherins they're not as head splittingly noisy or embarrassingly prying.

And they needed him. One last reminder that they are not facing their trials alone. As powerful a force peer pressure could be, its support was proving to do wonders in equal measures.

It was late afternoon when the magical train finally pulled into station. Adults lined that hidden platform, eagerly waiting to collect their children. It was not a memory Snape could recall, his parents had never picked him up. Straight from first year his parents had not bothered to collect him from the station, forcing the stationmaster to arrange a supervised floo to a public waystation within his town, close enough to walk within two or so hours. It set a terrible precedent for the years to come, his parents realising they needn't waste time on the four hour journey needed to collect him.

Lily's parents had noticed this eventually, and gallingly offered him to ride up with them in the years since. An invitation he accepted without as much convincing as his pride would dictate now, but to the mind of a young child, the prospect of spending four hours in the company of his best friend triumphed over the wait for the Stationmaster's attention.

A privilege he had not been given after the summer of their fallout. A lonely time that forced him once again to rely on the stationmaster's mercy. At the very least now he had legal access to the power of apparition, he no longer had to rely on anybody to get about.

"Have a good holiday, Snape," the fourth year Rawkas offered with a wave, and stepped down onto the platform, with an air of teenaged reluctance, into the arms of his awaiting parents both dressed smartly in muggle attire. Around him his Slytherin compatriots found their parents, those that were old enough to Apparate had mostly already done so from Hogsmeade. The few that hadn't, were saying their last goodbyes and were making their ways to the quieter sections of the station to better facilitate their concentration.

Snape scanned the faces, noting very little from his recollections. Indeed, perhaps the only parents he would be able to recognise would have been his own, and perhaps Lily's. Neither of her parents had come to pick her up this day. She had written to them not to, citing her newfound freedom of Apparition. Apparently, she had her father's permission for Snape's usage of the yard as a landing pad as well, despite the man's reservations with the issue of dating his daughter.

This was a meeting Snape did not look forward to, and no amount of adult-experiences could prepare him for meeting Lily's disapproving father. It did not help he had no comparable experiences to draw from. Lily's reassurances on the matter did not settle his mind. If he ever had any starry-eyed optimism, thirty-eight years of a wretched life fixed that right up.

Snape had considered avoiding the Evans household altogether, but he needed the access if he was to have a place to set up his cauldron. The Wolfsbane required a dedicated room for its crafting and storage, with strictly controlled temperature ranges. Summer was not going to be merciful to the process. Dumbledore had predicted as such, and sent Snape away with a little over double the amount of necessary ingredients for one brew, all of which was shrunk and stored within a leather satchel strapped to his back. The full moon was the night before; he did not expect to get stuck behind a cauldron for another week at least.

Lily had assured him that her father had agreed to spare a back yard facility for their endeavours. Some sort of muggle storage room for work tools and garden appliances, apparently small enough to easily enchant with a cooling charm. It was the best solution they had during this period away from the magical world as Snape certainly couldn't brew it back home. Had he even able to secure any of the meagre rooms of Spinner's End, he was certain the smell of the brew would cause no end of headaches with those pathetic excuses for parents.

"All done," Lily announced as she stepped from the crowd, likely relieved to finally shed her prefect responsibilities. It appeared that like Snape, she hadn't bothered to change out of her school robes either. "You ready to Apparate?"

Snape frowned, unable to recall the image of the landing point. It had been a good long while since he set foot in the Evans' residence, and the back yard especially was a grey spot. He was not exactly a fan of the outdoors. "Remind me again exactly in which direction and how far away from the lounge room the yard had been?"

Lily's eyebrows reached for the heavens. "You're making me worried. How about I jump us both there?"

Now there was an alarming thought if there ever was one. "You're a newly registered Apparater, Lily," he pointed out reasonably.

"So are you," she replied, just as reasonably given the context.

Snape was not giving in without a fight. "Excuse me if I don't feel comfortable risking your unpractised skills with a side-along."

To which Lily coolly replied, "That's a shame, because you'll end up in a wall if I misremember the size of my living room."

A good Slytherin knew when a battle was lost. Snape did not know the exact location of his targeted jump, and if he was quite honest, he trusted Lily's memory less than her magical ability. "Fine. Side-along," he growled as he redoubled his grip on his tattered luggage and held out his hand compliantly.

"Good Severus. Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" Lily remarked with a cheeky smile, and before Snape could reply she took a hold of his hand and sent them both blinking away through a series of three consecutive constrictive and disorientating lurches.

Never had Snape been so woozy after travel. "Why… Did…. Three times?" Snape gasped as he tried to get his bearings. At the very least the terrain he stumbled over into was the short cropped grass of a well-maintained lawn.

"I made it, didn't I?" came Lily's voice, as her shadow fell over him, her hand extended. Snape took it without prompting, and with a little struggling Lily pulled him upright. "Honestly, I didn't know if I could make it all the way to the midlands from London in one jump," she confessed nonchalantly. "So, I plotted my jumps through a course of wizarding villages along that route."

"Remind me why I trusted you to get me here in one piece?" Snape muttered, head still spinning.

"Because you're carrying the expensive Potion supplies that we can't afford to lose," Lily retorted with a dramatic roll of her eyes. "Speaking of which you best get working on the shed before they spoil." She indicated the small wooden structure that stood at one of the ends of a forking stone paved path. Snape drew his wand, dropping the heavy pack of ingredients by his luggage bag.

Stepping forward to the unassuming structure, Snape erected his wards. A reinforcement spell for the walls, in the worst-case scenario, would also double as insulation. A disillusionment for the structure from muggle eyes, because he didn't want to explain to neighbours why purple smoke was exuding from its windows. And finally, the cooling charm from wall to wall.

Snape opened the door, drawing the spell through the structure, feeling the pleasant temperate climate of the dungeons chase away the summer's mugginess. He will have to reapply the spell again when he began the potion in true, but thankfully that was a week away.

"Figures. I step inside for a moment and I miss the magic," a deep male voice sounded from outside the shed. Snape glanced through the door, suddenly unwilling to re-join Lily in the yard.

Standing beside her was a tall blond man, taller than Lily by a foot at least. He was older than the man in Snape's memories, his hair a little thinner, and belly a lot rounder. Clad in a white polo shirt and slacks, Martin Evans stood staring blankly. "I could have sworn the shed was right here," he muttered, reaffirming to Snape that his disillusionment worked. There hadn't been any doubt but it was always good to be certain.

"It's already been charmed invisible, daddy," Lily replied with her amused smile.

She held out the sachet of ingredients and beaconed to Snape who then summoned it past his wards. "Oh my, I'll never get used to that," Mr Evans laughed, no doubt to his muggle eyes it seemed the bag floated away and vanished. "So, where's Severus then? You said he'd be here."

"In the shed," Lily replied. "He's stowing the ingredients away so they won't spoil before we need them. Indeed, Snape had already set to work unpacking the ingredients from the sachet into little storage boxes provided by the headmaster. He double checked each item and cast wards against moisture and heat wherever appropriate. But from the piercing glaring from Lily, Snape realised he was expected to make some type of reply.

"Good afternoon, Mr Evans," Snape mumbled, unable to make eye contact with a man who couldn't even see him. He could not help but wonder whether the man had felt relieved when he heard his daughter had a falling out with her unorthodox best friend.

An uncertain smile graced the aging man's lips. "Hello Severus. It has been a while since I've heard your voice." Snape shared the sentiment, but for a far different trial of time. He didn't even know what happened to the man after his fallout with Lily, but no doubt he died before she did for his grandson had been left to the tender mercies of Petunia.

Sliding the last box in its place on the aligning shelves, Snape set his cauldron upon the workbench and faced the fact he had ran out of excuses to avoid this meeting. Straightening his robes as best he could, Snape stepped past his wards and into the humid heat, thankful that the sun was setting. His sudden appearance caused the muggle man to look upwards to readjust his line of sight. No doubt two years proved a decent change in height.

"I understand that you are now… dating my daughter." The man's smile became strained, and Snape did not need the use of Legilimency to see the disapproval.

Snape opened his mouth and no answering words issued forth. Because no words could aptly answer the father's concern. Because what could he assure really? He brought nothing to this relationship, and any promised assurances of the future was nothing but platitudes in the present.

This was not a conversation he was prepared for.

Unable to meet the man's darker green eyes, Snape uttered, "Sorry." Lily's eyes caught his, a questioning concern upon her expression. "I need to go. I don't feel well," Snape muttered as he took a hold of his suitcase. "Give my best to Mrs Evans," he uttered before quickly Disapparating away, not even allowing Lily the time to get a word out.

Snape leaned against the dirty wall of a back-alley street, the one that stretched beside Spinner's End that he knew so well. It was a cowardly thing to do to run as he had, and he felt the shame keenly. But he was not ready to face direct disapproval from a man who had been nothing but kind to him from the start. A situation too similar to his fall out with Lily, and a situation he only knew to handle by respecting her wishes of distance and silence. This current situation did not come with such clear instructions.

With a scowl Snape heaved himself off the wall. With his luggage in hand, he slowly made his way from the dusk carved shadows of the narrow alleyway, and to the dilapidated steps of his childhood home. A home that never felt like a home. Somehow, in lieu of the mild disapproval of a man who had only ever been kind to him, the prospect of enduring his place in this forsaken household seemed of mild concern.

With a flick of his wand, Snape unlocked the door and stepped through into the gloom, trading broiling heat for stifling humidity. The smell of stale alcohol hit his senses, invoking unpleasant memories. Had he been forced to knock and wait, undoubtedly he'd have been left waiting. He stepped through the darkened lounge, making out the form of a person passed out upon one of the armchairs.

"Don't even bother knocking now do you?" A scathing voice sounded at his shoulder.

Snape turned to meet the black eyes of a wasted woman, the alcohol on her breath. His mother had taken heavily to his father's activity of choice by increasing increments over the years, the last scraps of home falling apart in Snape's life. Indeed, neglect was heavily evident in the peeling wallpaper, the thick dust that coating every surface, the smell of rotted garbage and the lingering mould that emanated from various corners of the house.

This was a family that stopped trying.

"Speak when you're spoken to," his mother spat, no warmth upon her voice for seeing a son that had been away.

Snape's eyes flashed but he did not rise to her tone, scowling on the inside so he did not invoke her wrath. He did not need his father to wake. No good came of waking a violent drunk. "I did not wish to disturb anyone."

A strange look came over his mother's sunken eyes, as if suddenly struck with confusion. "You are Severus, right?"

His manners. It was always his manners that got him called to question. "Yes, mother."

She questioned him no more, perhaps she doesn't really remember how her son should have behaved. To her it had been almost a year, and perhaps dozens, if not hundreds of bottles, since they last saw each other. Considering her wasted frame, Snape wondered how long had it been since she had a square meal. Had they been spending more of his father's pension on alcohol? They barely had any left for food as it is.

The last time he had seen Eileen and Tobias Snape had been over nineteen years ago to his perspective, at the front point of his wand. He had killed his own parents, a fact that had never weighed on him during his previous life, at the very least nowhere as heavily as his cardinal sin. But it is a matter he had to face now. He did not love his parents, detested them even, but he was no longer a dark wizard.

No matter the failures they were.

"If that is all mother. I would like to unpack." With a dip of his head, more courteously than he'd likely ever regarded either of his parents with, Snape excused himself, setting foot upon the creaking first step of the narrow stairs. When this household passed to him, he had set about magically renovating parts of this forsaken household, adding magical flares to this otherwise ordinary muggle house. This narrow staircase would eventually be hidden behind a wall of books, sealing away his private quarters from public eyes.

Why he chose to return here, after all that was said and done was the question he kept asking himself throughout his previous life. Only towards the end had he finally an answer for himself. This decaying household, its ill-kept array, its befouled history, its inescapable, inexorable air of depression; it was everything that described himself. A miserable house for a miserable man.

With a twist and a flick of his wand, the scrappy luggage floated off the ground, following carefully behind him. His mother looked on with a dark frown, and an almost wistful gleam in her eyes. She could do magic, Snape remembered the few sparks of its witness during childhood. But slowly, slowly, whether it was from disuse or corruption from the abuse or her foul lifestyle, her ability became untethered.

"Do you regret it?" Snape asked, uncertain what kind of answer he was expecting from her drink-addled state.

A strange dark look twisted across her face. "More than the depth of its meaning. I regret every step that took me to this place."

 _You regret marrying my father. You regret having me._ It was all an obvious answer, he felt nothing for this revelation. "If you had a way back, would you take it?"

"Without hesitation, Severus." His mother fixed him with those unsteady black eyes. "But I think we both know, there is no way to fix the past."

A rush of breath breached Snape's lips, almost a laugh if he still remembered how his sounded. "Wise words," he muttered as he turned from that sorry excuse for a mother. Relieved at least from the prospect of a difficult reunion.

* * *

The mansion of the Prince estate loomed regally from its cliff-top perch. No doubt the design the architect had in mind was of striking intimidation in all those that approached, and Snape had no doubt it would rise to the occasion admirably in the post-dusk gloom, hulking out from its rising perch like a gigantic creature of the night. However, as it were, under the blistering mid-day sun of summer, the cool dark grey stones of its Victorian era-architecture shone almost cheerfully upon the vista of the sweeping British countryside below.

The great wrought-iron gates opened at Snape's approach, no doubt his presence was expected. Dumbledore had said he had taken steps to arrange this meeting between Snape and Prince, but only as an envoy. The truth about his lineage was not yet revealed to the elderly wizard, information that he was expected to use to his advantage. A task well suited for his set of skills, but the degree of success he could expect playing sentiments was uncertain, even for a man who prided a life's work weaving webs.

The great doors opened before Snape's presence, the great brass knockers lay polished but untouched, revealing a grand reception hall that did not live up to its welcoming title. Snape stepped forward into the shade, he could feel the prickle of sweat against the high collar of his dress robes; the devastation of the summer's heat felt despite the cooling charm he had weaved into his robes.

The interior of the manor did not carry even a hint of the cheeriness of summer. The palette that dressed the furniture and walls were of severe greys and dark mahoganies, giving the cavernous reception hall a feeling of unwelcoming solitude, not helped by struggling light that reached its inner most depth. What filtered through the towering windows was not enough to dispel the all-encompassing gloom. All in all, Snape was beginning to see the family resemblance.

A sickly-looking House Elf appeared before the stairs, bowed low in reception. "Mister Snape I presume," he rasped with a deep gurgle. "The master has been expecting you. He will receive you in the atrium." Snape answered with a nod and fell into step behind the slow shuffling steps of the decrepit elf.

They turned away from the ascending stairs and wound their ways through one of the narrow hallways that bled from the central hall, sticking to the path that stuck mostly to the outer wall and ignoring the halls that went further into the heart of the grand structure. The structure resembling that of the dungeons, perhaps constructed purposefully owing to nostalgia of this reputedly Slytherin bloodline. Windows pricked the walls, every few feet, spooling light against the receiving surface and not much else. The insidious darkness clawed forth all the harder from every corner and crevasse carved into the stone-grey walls.

At last the hallway ended, opening to the greatest source of light Snape had bared witness to since stepping through those grand entrance doors. The atrium was no smaller than the reception hall had been, but with the grand glass panes that lined its ceiling, no gloom was resilient enough to persist. Black marble structures, raised waist-height, proudly displayed their botanical bounties. Brugmansia, digitalis, and ranunculus, various flowers of high potioneering value lined the path to the heart of this sun-bleached room. A potion master's green house in every way except intent, for Snape had seen structures of true greenhouses perched upon the flat ground before the climb.

A grand chair was positioned by the open balcony doors, overlooking the cliff's edge. The plains of the golden countryside stretched before them in a view that swept away all memories of the crushing solitude that the rest of the manor was seeped in. Perhaps that was why the Prince patriarch chose to receive him here.

For within the regal high-backed leather-bound chairs sat a straight-backed but age-withered old wizard, his long straight hair bleached white with age. He was already old when he settled for a family. When Eileen Snape was born, Amedeus Prince had already seen more years than either his daughter or grandson ever would. His age touched upon the realm of Dumbledore's, and could linger on for many more had it not been for the conspiracy that surroundeds his future.

Already the forces of darkness were courting the man for funding, and political alignments of this ancient family already leaned in their favour. His known future dictated that he would eventually name the Dark Lord the successor of his wealth and estate, thus sealing his own casket.

His wealth became one of the great pillars of this war. Funding for the foot soldiers that served within the death eater ranks. No longer a force of simple fanatics, but a desirable position for any of worth seeking fortune.

An advantage Snape aimed to deny.

"Mister Snape. Envoy to Grand Sorcerer Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore," the wheezing elf announced. Snape stepped forward and bowed low, as highborn protocols dictate. Decorum learned from another lifetime, in a time very similar to the days he lived in now.

Without acknowledging the young man in his presence, the Prince patriarch indicated casually with his withered hand. A second regal chair slid forward seemingly from nowhere, as close to an invitation to sit as any.

Snape obliged, perching upon the offered seat with his eyes respectfully averted. He did not breach the silence that seemed to stretch into the minutes. He could not speak until the host commanded or obliged him. Protocols to observe. He was not this man's equal, and he had to behave as such.

A floating tray bearing tea appeared by Snape's elbow, a hospitality he gracefully accepted. With a muttered invocation of a simple cooling charm, he wandlessly cast it about the otherwise scalding drink. He had no affinity with wandless magic, but after decades in application of the craft, he was able to pick up some spell work habitually. He could not do so as instinctively as Lily could, nor would his wandless ability ever reach very far from his person, but what he could do he could make seem effortless. He sipped his bitter tea quietly, knowing all too well his display of magical mastery, well beyond his years, did not slip by the ancient wizard unnoticed.

After a long meandering moment, Lord Prince finally spoke, "Snape is not a wizarding name, is it boy?"

"No. It is not." A permanent reminder of his blood status. It was impossible for a blood purity hard liner to ignore.

A look of mind disgust passed over the features of the man, one Snape knew so well. A half-blood did not associate frequently with pureblood likes without meeting derision. "Unusual then he would send a boy on his behalf."

Snape had expected some seemingly casual exchanges, comments and questions designed to tease out more information. "Professor Dumbledore meant no disrespect."

Professor Dumbledore, only a student would call him that. A detail that the Prince patriarch did not miss. "So, he sent one of his students."

Snape bowed his head in a confirming nod. "I am one of his pupils in alchemy." He had been waiting for an opportunity to introduce himself as such. Because like many ancient established pureblood family, the Princes had their prosperous roots seeped in the alchemical arts.

"Snape…" The man turned his pitch-black eyes onto his young guest with renewed intensity. Black eyes that Snape had seen in three generations of this bloodline. "I had been pondering why that name seemed familiar despite being of unknown lineage. I realise now I have heard it quite recently. Tell me boy, are you the same Snape mentioned in this year's International Alchemical Conference? A student yet unworthy of title, who pioneered a new method of transmutation?"

"I am," Snape confirmed, a creeping satisfaction over the success of his tactics.

Those black eyes peered with familiar intensity, Snape felt a glancing touch upon the fortress of his mind. "It was a high honour they were to bestow upon such an untested young foal. Yet you did not bother to respect it with your presence."

Snape had been told he was made recipient of the Gold Medal from the Alchemical Conference, awarded to Flamel in his absence for Ground Breaking Contributions to the field. His stubbornness to avoid public scrutiny may have worked against him in this regard. "I felt it too presumptive of me to attend such an exclusive event. As you have said, I am yet unworthy to be seen as a peer." Humble avoidance of the issue, it was best damage control he could manage of that situation.

Lord Prince took a slow sip of bitter brew as he peered at the younger man with intense black eyes. "So, what does Dumbledore intend by sending his alchemical prodigy to meet with me?"

There was no point in being coy with this question. For a man like Prince who had spent the past few years being courted for his fortune by all manners of political and social bodies within the wizarding world, it was unthinkable that he did not suspect what this meeting was about. "The fate of your legacy, Lord Prince. That is what professor Dumbledore sent me for."

"Presumptuous," the ancient wizard hissed. "Does the old fool think that I would adopt the first half-talented wizard that steps past my threshold?"

"I would certainly hope not, as I have parents of my own to return to," Snape replied evenly, casual words uttered from well-practiced deception. "He offers you information, for he hears the plight of your legacy pains you so." Snape produced a scroll slowly from the deep pockets of his fine robes. "He thought you might wish to know of the whereabouts of your daughter."

A furious sneer painted itself across the old wizard's face. "That blood traitor is my daughter no longer, and has not been for many a decade. Why would I wish to know of such a thing?"

An expected reaction, emotional, but for a Slytherin that was an easy veil to pierce with rationality. "Perhaps the headmaster had thought you were sick of enduring those less than genuine offers day and night, and moved to offer you a prospect that at least carried your blood."

Black eyes did not waver from black eyes, the prod against his mind wall came more insistently, but a mere stinging hex compared to the power of the Dark Lord's Legilimency. "And Dumbledore, what does he get out of this?" That was the certainty for a Slytherin. Nobody does anything for free. To claim no motive is to be suspect.

"Professor Dumbledore is a kind man," Snape began, lips curling with sardonic amusement. "But I think we both know it takes more than kindness to meddle in affairs you have not been invited to meddle in." He placed his teacup back down upon the floating tea tray. "Dumbledore understand you have been undertaking inheritance negotiations with some… unsavoury elements, of your chosen political sphere."

"Ah. So, he seeks to ensure my fortune does not go to funding his enemies." A wry twitch of the Prince patriarch's thin lips bespoke of the humourless amusement he found in this situation. "Again, presumptive of him. Why should I indulge Dumbledore's wishes? As you have said, they are of my chosen political sphere."

Why indeed? That was the pivotal question. A question Snape had known was coming, and spent the duration of the conversation tailoring it to the man he had observed. This proud unbending pureblood, who cares so much about one's mark upon the world.

"You will die, my Lord Prince, that is a certainty of life," Snape began, not softening his words. Those dark eyes glared intensely, but no angry interruption came. "And when you do, the Prince Bloodline will die, for you only had one daughter of your blood, and she is no longer bearing your lineage." Snape paused a beat, watching the Prince patriarch closely. "And should you adopt another into your name, they will never be yours in blood. Another pureblood line falls to dust."

The ancient wizard's black eyes had not left him as he spoke, its intensity never waning from its apex. "Tell me boy. You are a Slytherin are you not?"

Snape bowed his head in concession. "I am."

"Then the apple does not fall far from the tree. I see you take after your mother."

And there it was, the recognition Snape knew would come. He was Prince in appearance, black eyes, black hair, and the blackest of demeanour. He did not need to hasten the revelation, for he knew it would come upon its own accord, at the moment he made his impression upon the elderly wizard.

"Every trait I have of worth is from my mother," Snape lied, laying on the deception thick. This was the turning point of negotiations, he could feel it. "I am living proof of what your bloodline is still capable of, even when diluted with filth. The potential that is coming so close to being wasted. A great disservice to the wizarding world to lose such a dynasty."

To suggest that Snape was the example of the potential of the Prince bloodline could have been a too presumptive a move. For a proud man like Amedeus Prince, his words could take at this moment in either direction. But after a moment more, meeting those intense black eyes, laughter came. Deep and unsettling, as if from the maws of a sinister spirit. "Well spoken, young Snape. You are a Slytherin in true despite your unfortunate defect."

"You humble me with your words, Lord Prince." This tone was taking a dangerous direction.

The elderly wizard gave a slow approving nod, one that Snape could not help but feel that not many would ever receive. "Save for one piece of unpleasantness, I find myself not disliking any aspect of you, boy. I would not be opposed to assess you more closely for your suitability. It would not take many generations of pureblood association for your father's taint to be forgotten."

That was the misunderstanding Snape had hoped to avoid. An offer of title and wealth beyond any Snape had ever achieved within two lifetimes of toil. A childhood desire that tempted him no longer.

"You misunderstand, Lord Prince. I am not the heir that is offered." The man's black eyes flashed in anger, disbelief coloured his withered face. The idea that anyone could turn down an offer so seductive insulted the proud man deeply, as Snape knew that it would.

But he had something far more precious now than petty wealth. Something he'd be forced to surrender if he pursued this course.

"I was merely a sample of what your bloodline could offer through my mother, if you would allow it, Eileen Prince." The silence that followed that statement gave no indication of good or ill. Had he taken the offer, Dumbledore's plan to strip the dark side of its core funding would be a guaranteed success. But this was not a sacrifice Snape was willing to make for this war. He would not give up Lily, not for fame, not for fortune, not for victory.

"Your daughter had erred greatly in her youth, a mistake she has since learned to recognise as such. She will not resist if you choose to forgive her folly. She will return to your family's fold, a pure-blooded Prince with potential in her progeny." It did not irk Snape to talk about his mother as such, for he had long stopped seeing her as his mother.

The Prince patriarch did not answer, anger still bubbling in the ensuing silence. Snape knew when he overstayed his welcome. "I ask only that you consider this possibility." He placed the scroll upon the floating platter, alongside the cup of bitter tea he had sipped to a respectable level. And with that Snape stood, and regarded the elderly pureblood with a deep respectful bow. "I thank you for your hospitality, my Lord Prince."

* * *

There was no two ways about it. Lily was concerned about Severus.

She had not seen him once since they came back, almost a week after tossing him about with her slapdash Apparition skills. She had hoped he'd come round by casual whim, perhaps take lunch with her family, perhaps spend a little time with her father. Maybe resume that conversation that got aborted by the onset of Apparition disorientation that came with a bad side-along. But Sev refused, citing the need for an important meeting.

Instead Lily had been forced to tiptoe around her father, changing the subject whenever her father brought the subject dangerously close to that sensitive issue or physically removing herself from his presence. She wasn't going to be the one to change his mind, she knew that from three months ago. It had to be Severus that puts her worried father's mind at ease.

And there was the matter of her mother too. Lily hadn't even realised she hadn't spoken to Sev about it until he made that faux pas. After Sev Apparated from their yard, Lily's father turned to her and asked, "Did you not tell him your mother passed away last year?"

Sheepishness touched Lily's face. It wasn't like she had been avoiding the subject with Sev. The subject simply never got mentioned. There was no elegant way to bring up this fact.

" _Oh by the way Severus, you know in the summer we weren't talking to each other? Mom died. Thought you'd like to know."_ She could see it now, Sev silently panicking over the correct social sensitivity protocols to take, not realising a year was well enough to finish mourning. She still left freshly conjured flowers upon her mother's gravestone whenever she had some time in the evenings of her holidays, but any bitter sorrow that accompanied her visit had long since ebbed away into a small ache in her heart.

Unfortunately, to her father, it simply reinforced his fears that Lily had essentially rushed into this relationship without proper thought or discussion. Wonderful, another point to argue upon without proving points to either side.

This morning however, he appeared suddenly and expectantly. He was to be attending the Alchemical Conference this day, an exciting notion if ever there was one. He had arrived early in the morning and actually requested a bite to eat, citing his rush to leave home left him with an empty stomach, and to make use of the showering facilities, citing his own was currently out of… usable soap. He swallowed his pride so that he didn't turn up at an exclusive academics gathering under groomed.

He had arrived dressed back in those awful muggle rags, his legs stuck out awkwardly through those too short trousers. His shirt puffed out noticeably, likely his father's and too large for his thin frame. Already she could see his demeanour shift, seemingly more withdrawn. Almost an impressive feat for the usually already quite reserved boy.

She tried to watch him for new injuries, but he showed no outward signs. Nor did he limp or handle himself gingerly. Lily hoped desperately that his situation had improved with the rest of his lot in life. It broke her heart with worry, knowing the kind of household he had returned to.

It really was amazing what a new change of clothes could do for him. Those shining new robes Dumbledore had commissioned for him, making it seem like he stepped out the bathroom a completely different man.

Unfortunately, that left Lily with the conundrum. Did she want to stay in the house and dodge her father every time he turned a corner and ran into her? Or should she seek sanctuary in her anti-muggle invisibility shed and simply ride out the boredom of solitude?

Severus wasn't going to be back today, and who really knew how long these conference things lasted. All she knew for certain was that he'd certainly be back before the start day of this month's brew. Though Lily thought she might be confident enough to take a crack at it, they were only given a limited supply of ingredients. It would not be ideal for a novice to court failure on a budget.

Lily sighed as she snuck into the kitchen, putting the kettle on as quietly as humanly possible in the traditional muggle way. She had clumsily left her wand in her room and did not wish to risk alerting her father who was only in the next room over, watching the television. He always pretended to be watching the news, but Lily knew he found a guilty pleasure in some sort of children's show about a time-travelling space wizard who jaunts about in a spaceship in the shape of a box. She was certain the show made more sense than its seriously confounding description, otherwise she couldn't image how an adult like her father could enjoy it.

Quickly fixing up her tea, Lily made to sneak out with it up to her room, against all notion of proper decorum. However, before she could execute her play, a shadow fall across her shoulder. Lily jumped, cracking the fine china against the table and spilling hot tea down her shirt.

"Steady, Lily," her father's calm tone ordered.

"I'll fix it!" she replied hastily, ordering the teacup together with a wandless Repairing Charm. Shoving the fixed cup into her father's hands, Lily siphoned up the mess, and in the magical confusion quickly made a dash for the entrance.

"Not so fast missy," her father ordered, setting down the teacup. "I think you'll find your room locked until we sit down and have had a real heart to heart."

Lily raised an eyebrow. "Really? Locks on a witch?"

Dad sighed, "I was bluffing anyway. The news bulletin just ended, hadn't had a chance to run up there. Not that I could run anyway." He gave his soft belly a pat.

"Right. News bulletin." Lily smiled and rolled her eyes, knowing all too well the odd keening tune of his odd show of choice. She did love her dear old dad, when he wasn't trying to be domineering. He was too much of a traditionalist, worried about what his daughters get up to when they weren't being watched. It was her mother that encouraged both daughters to venture out into independent paths, saying the role of the woman is no longer homebound in the new and exciting modern world.

"Look, Lily. Please humour your old dad and just sit down for a chat."

Lily was taken by a sudden bout of childishness. "I don't want to." She tried to duck under her father's arms, but miscalculated her father's lack of agility against her own clumsiness. She tripped, causing her to fly straight into her father's ready grasp. The absolute pinnacle of escape failures.

"I'd rather not have to hold you here and make you listen, Lily," Dad said sternly. A tortuous proposal in the scourge of summer. Lily really needed to sit down and learn how Severus tuned his cooling charms so expertly. She couldn't charm her room without accidentally making it snow.

Lily was almost thankful when the phone rang, forcing her father to release her in order to silence the obnoxious contraption. "Oh no you don't," he muttered as Lily made to slip away. "You are going to answer the phone, and then we are going to sit down and have a chat."

Grudgingly, Lily did as she was bade, picking up the receiver and silencing the contraption. Muggles were ingenious enough to invent a device that allowed two parties to speak from any distance instantaneously but couldn't give it an alert method that wasn't so earsplittingly annoying.

"Hello?" she attempted hesitantly, still unused to this conversational method.

The shrill voice that replied was almost of equivalent annoyance. "You! What are you doing back?" Petunia demanded. Every year Lily returned home at this same time, and every year her oh so lovely sister seemed to be surprised by her unwelcome return.

"Good to see you too Tuney," Lily returned in a sickly-sweet voice, purposefully using that woeful childhood nickname because she knew how much it irked her dear sweet sister.

For the most part it seemed to have worked, for Petunia scathed back equally bitterly, "For your information you uneducated freak, you cannot _see_ someone with a phone!"

"Give me two hours and I bet I can," Lily returned sweetly, causing her sister to shriek with frustration.

A deep disgruntled sniff sounded through the phone, "I am calling to speak to daddy, not you. So put him on the phone!"

"Oh, absolutely. Right away." Lily turned from the receiver, and very loudly announced, "Daddy, Petunia wants to speak to you. She says she's pregnant."

Skipping away, giggling to herself as her dad's large clumsy hands scrambled to take the loudly shrieking receiver. She escaped amidst the carnage she left behind, hoping the confusion with Petunia would quickly throw off her father's attention.

At the very least it certainly bought her time, because it was almost a good hour of uninterrupted reading before Lily finally heard the knock on her bedroom door.

With a sigh the girl closed the thin but already dog-eared book, briefly considering locking the door magically, ensuring her father could not come in. But after an afternoon of cooling her head, she had finally gathered herself enough to act mature about the matter.

"Come in," she called with solemn surrender, ready for this to be an exhausting stalemate. With a resigned motion, she set the book on her nightstand. A title called 'Grand Alchemical Achievements' she had picked out from 'Tomes and Scrolls' in Hogsmeade to better understand Sev's newfound interest in life. More entertaining then educational really.

Her father entered, a gentle smile upon his face. "Why thank you Lily. I didn't think this was a conversation that really could be had through a closed door."

"Does this conversation need to be had?" she sighed, exasperated. "You've made yourself perfectly clear about your stance on Severus."

"If I have then you don't seem to get the message." Her father sat down heavily at the end of Lily's bed, causing the mattress to dip alarmingly. Her father seemed to grow larger each time she saw him, a side effect from the medication, he had told her. Apparently, insulin caused weight gain in quite alarming rates, and was the terrible sort of medication that had to be applied with a needle. There was many a tear shed in Lily's past associated with that muggle instrument of childhood trauma.

A long moment's silence passed, and finally her father broke it. "Petunia was non-too-pleased, by the way. You really shouldn't stir your sister up like that."

"She started it," Lily muttered, wincing at her own return to childishness. "What did she want?" she continued, less interested in the topic and more glad for a delay of the inevitable.

With a deep fortifying breath her father answered, not seeming pleased or displeased with the news, "Well. It seems your sister is engaged."

"Really?" Lily asked shocked, perking up in surprise. She hadn't even known Petunia was seeing anyone, or thought that anybody could endure her company for long enough to snog her. "So who is this fellow? Anybody you should disapprove of?"

Her father took one meandering breath as he seemed to contemplate his words. "Well I have only met the man once over dinner, and he appeared to me to be a well-adjusted young fellow with a shining career ahead of him. A bit round in the waist but who am I to hold that against him?" With a dull chuckle he patted his own belly. "But most importantly I think he truly cares about Petunia, and will take good care of her dependably."

The connotations of that comment rubbed Lily in all the wrong ways. "Severus cares about me!" she retorted hotly, absolutely barrelling into that trap topic.

"I'm sure he does," her father agreed, infuriatingly leaving no room to argue that point.

"Then what? He's not good enough for me? You think he can't take care of me? Well I'll tell you now, Severus may be poor but I can guarantee you he'll not stay that way! He's too smart to be mediocre! He'll be someone great!" Lily fumed as her father sat back and allowed her to vent. "And that being said, I don't plan on sitting on my hands like some housewife when I graduate. In the wizarding world women are limited only by their own abilities. I could take on any role that I want! I don't need a _dependable_ husband to take care of me!"

She glared challengingly to her father, daring him to impose another dose of his frustrating traditional values upon her. But instead, the only thing her father calmly said was, "I don't doubt that either."

Lily was dumbfounded. "Then what is the problem you have with him?"

"Oh, is it my turn to speak now?" Her father smiled, his cheekiness never left anybody any doubt who Lily took after. "Alright, then. Let me start by telling you, everything I am about to say, I know is not his fault in the slightest."

"It's about his family?" Lily questioned. Then immediately felt appalled when her father nodded. Surely the Hippocratic Oath of Dr Evans prevented him from acting discriminately. At least that was what she assumed the oath meant.

"Yes, it is about his family. And the unfortunate situation he grew up in." Her father did not mince words about that state of the world that still twisted Lily's guts with a thought. "I need to tell you a little story Lily, so you understand where I am coming from." The lines upon his face appeared to deepen, making him appear suddenly his age. "Did you know, there is a war going on at the moment within the muggle world? A war in a remote corner of the oriental world, and one that our home Great Britain is a part of?" Lily didn't think he meant the trouble with the pureblood supremacists that was slowly spiralling out of control. "Well, see this war started a few decades ago now, around the time when you were born. A war that young men foolishly signed up for, thinking of adventure and glory, but finding horror instead." A chill ran down Lily's spine, this tale rung too familiar, a childhood horror story told by her father. "These same young men returned, never quite the same. They return to their wives and children, people that they love, and for one reason or another they would end up hurting them."

"How is this relevant?" Lily interrupted, not liking where this was going in the least.

Patiently, her father continued, "In my career I have tended so many of these shattered soldiers, as well as many children of abuse." He paused, shaking his head. "These cases, these terrible cases, have one thing tragically in common. Many children of abuse grow up ill adjusted, with trauma so similar to the violent fits those unfortunate soldiers live with. A fault not their own, but a chain of abuse that perpetuates itself through their loved ones."

Eyes round, Lily shook her head. "Yeah? So what?"

"Severus was an abused child, you must know this Lily," her father urged.

"And that doesn't mean anything! Severus has never laid a finger on me!" Not in the way her father meant in any case. "He would never hurt me!"

With a shake of his head her father insisted, "But my dear Lily, he already has." Lily frowned, uncertain what to make of this statement. "I remember last year, when I asked you of the welfare of your young friend, you had told me he had become a man of terrible disposition. That he had called you a derogatory slur, a word meant to cut deep."

"Yeah, well. They were just words," Lily muttered, flushing at the memory. She did not feel the bite of anger any longer, but hated everything about it still.

Slowly her father took her hands, holding them gently and earnestly between his large smooth fingers. "Lily," he began slowly. "That is how it begins. Never with blows, but with words meant to hurt. It is never an observable sudden, but a slow building creep into an unpleasant conclusion."

If it was possible for words to change her heart, her father's earnest concern came the closest. Because it was true, Severus had lashed out at her with words that was meant to hurt. He had done so unintentionally, in a moment of uncontrolled madness. A moment that only came to prove her father's words.

In a small voice she tried one last time, "But… he's changed."

"That's not the point Lily." She felt his fingers squeeze hers. "He may be a perfectly pleasant young man now, ninety percent of the time, but it only takes once for you to be hurt so badly you would never be the same again."

Lily felt her fingers curl inwards, pulling away from her father's comforting hands. With a relenting sigh, he released her and stood. "I only ask that you think about what I have just said." And with only a comforting pat upon her shoulder he ambled from the room, leaving Lily alone with dark and heavy thoughts.

* * *

A/N: A heavy chapter on abuse and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, a condition that had not been medically recognised until 1980. That is essentially three years from the date in this date. Until then medical professionals had recognised signs of such mental anguish, how could they not with the heavy load of returning war veterans in that century. What would have been unusual for that time is the recognition of childhood abuse leading to PTSD-like disorders, a link that had not been officially made until many decades after where this story is set in. But I highly doubt any medical professional who had to deal with these kinds of patients would not recognise the similarities, even without official diagnosis. That being said, not all PTSD sufferers are roided out abusers. Most are really only a harm to themselves.

With Severus however, I honestly think if Lily had dated him the first time around as he would have wanted it, they would have been set up for a bad relationship. Severus was possessive, selfish and easy to give in to violent emotions and was definitely not above lashing out. Somehow I think it actually helps him in the long run to know exactly what it feels like to have lost Lily to his absolute worst nature.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 24th March 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 30: It Only Takes Once**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	30. It Only Takes Once

**Chapter 30: It Only Takes Once**

A Great Grey owl had settled into the attic to Lily's father's great confusion; he had no idea such massive owl species existed or could fit through an open skylight. By dinner time it became apparent that this creature did not settle with intent of independent cohabitation, as it suddenly invited itself down to their dinner table with demands upon their beef and gravy. To Lily it was obvious this was a magical owl, that had for whatever reason chosen to haunt a muggle residence in the obscure Midlands. Perhaps she had gotten lucky and a magical owl flew into her life, wishing to bond with a witch who had always wanted a familiar as promised in the witchery brochures. Her father was far less delighted, especially after seeing what it could do to a roast.

The mystery had been cleared up however by the reappearance of Severus, a mere day after he left for the conference. He was back, and seemingly in cahoots with their new feathery squatter. Lily walked out into the yard one morning to find Severus sitting upon a conjured stool in the shed, its disillusionment spell having no effect on her as it had been tailored specifically to muggle eyes. The bird perched upon the workbench, waiting patiently as he secured a length of parchment.

"So, when did you get an owl, you man of many mysteries?" Lily grinned as she drew up a stool of her own from the ethers, prompting Sev who glanced up with a slight upward lift of his lips.

"He's not mine. He's the schools," he replied as his fingers checked the security of his knot. "The headmaster is lending me an owl for the break so that we have a method of transporting this damnable potion."

Lily's eyes lit up. "Oh, I get it. Send a giant owl so that it can carry heavier loads in flight. I don't suppose he also sent some owl kibble? I don't think we can keep up with his calorie demands."

"He can hunt," Sev replied, to which the massive owl ruffled its feathers and hooted in a disgruntled manner. "You can hunt," Severus directed his stern words at the protesting owl, silencing the gargantuan raptor. It was always easier to hunt a slab of beef, fresh from the oven. They didn't tend to move very fast.

"So, you sending a thank you note to Dumbledore?" Lily asked, eyeing the secured parchment.

Severus brought the bird out of the temperate shed and flung it out into the scourging heat of day to the creature's grand displeasure. "Something like that…" he muttered evasively.

"Oh, come on. More than that, please?" Lily batted her eyelashes, already knowing too well how much power her feminine wiles had over Sev. She almost felt guilty when he crumbled.

"I just had to report to Dumbledore about my actions at the conference. I didn't want him to worry that I had besmirched his good name with my rudimentary knowledge in this ancient area."

Lily rolled her eyes. "As if he'd think like that. You're projecting your inner pessimist. Not everyone's out to get you."

Severus glanced away and muttered, "Sometimes I wonder about that."

A streak of worry touched Lily's heart. "How is everything… back at home, Sev?" She felt that lump of dread within her chest, the worry that invoked her father's words and all the heavy thoughts that came with it.

"Everything's fine," Severus replied, his eyes not rising to meet hers. She cast her eyes about his form, wondering if he was speaking true, or if he was concealing the hurts upon him.

She laid her hand gently upon his shoulder, causing him to blink, a motion too similar to how he would flinch if touched unexpectedly. She didn't like this. She didn't want him to keep something like this to himself. "If something bad is happening, tell me Sev. I'm here for you."

A strange, almost amused expression flitted across his face. "You humble me with your concern Lily." He leaned forward, laying a brief kiss upon her lips. "But I'd rather speak of fairer matters," he muttered, invoking a rush of heat up the back of Lily's neck that sent her glancing about the corners of the room, anywhere but at those black eyes.

Severus withdrew, frowning. "I don't understand. I thought you had asked me to be more spontaneous with my affections?"

As expected, he misinterprets her coyness as commentary on unwelcome contact. "Oh, learn to read the situation better, Sev," Lily groused.

"So, I shouldn't act on spontaneous initiative?"

"That wasn't the problem."

"Have you ever heard of the term mixed messages?"

Despite his grumblings, it appeared Sev had deciphered at least parts of the message, as she found his thin but sturdy arms encircled around her, all too willing to hold her when there was no one to witness.

This was just who Severus was, when all the erratic outbursts had bled away. A shy, sweet boy who really didn't know what to do with himself, and cared overly much about what others thought. No trace remained of that dangerous abusive soul that her father feared.

 _How did you change so much?_ She thought to herself as she looped her arms about him and buried her face into his chest, feeling his ribs prominently again. "When was the last time you ate?" She asked as she leant back in alarm.

"I'm eating," he mumbled.

"Obviously not enough. You're taking lunch with my family!" Lily's tone brooked no space for argument.

She felt his arms tighten around her, she could smell faint traces of alcohol upon his person. She squeezed her eyes shut, empathetic pity stirring within her breast. What a terrible place his home must be.

Just two months… then he'd return to Hogwarts with her and would never have to return to that terrible place.

She felt the sigh more than heard it, rumbling in his chest. "I suppose I should say hello to your mother. It would be rude of me to be visiting your property so often without paying my regards to the matriarch of your family."

Lily's stomach flipped. And here it was. Opportunity. "Really? Can't stand up to my dad so you thought to try the softer route with my mum?" Aaaand she blew it. Goodness, what was so hard about this? Her mother died a year ago. She had more than enough time to adjust.

"Don't mistake the choosing of the more tactically sound option as a sign of cowardice," Severus returned lightly, she could feel him smiling his dull rare smile.

Lily didn't bother to stifle her own sigh. "You'll have to face my dad sooner or later… Sooner, rather than later."

"I will," Sev answered with a resigned tone. "But… I have to ask. Are your affections conditional on your father's approval?"

Lily looked at him sharply, eyebrows raised questioningly. "I don't have an off button if that's what you mean. I'm not going to stop loving you just because dad doesn't like you." _But he has good reason not to…_

 _Is it though?_

"You're not a bad guy Severus," Lily muttered, electing a pleased, almost smug expression through his stoic façade. "You just need to show dad that too. It's important to me that you at least try."

 _Warn him about dad's fears._ Lily's logical part whispered to her.

 _But that defeats the purpose._ Lily's Gryffindor part supplied. It wasn't that she doubted his changed heart, of that she had become all the more certain of the moment she saw him this morning. What she feared was his Slytherin wiles, that he'd abandon any attempts to be genuine with her father, building a relationship on falseness and pretences.

She did not wish to embark upon this relationship through the distancing of her father. And if Severus could not convince her dad honestly, then it did not speak hopefully about their future.

That was a possibility Lily did not wish to dwell on.

She felt his thin chest expand beneath her arms again in that deep silent sigh. "Am I able to enjoy a little time in your company before I commit to this encounter?"

"Please," Lily smiled, closing her eyes and burying her face against his warm chest, a familiar warmth that brought with it the tolling of alarm bells. She felt the vibration as he swallowed thickly, and suddenly realised the precariousness of her situation. "Oh? Do you mean?" The heat rushed to her face as a litany of excuses battled upon her tongue. "But this is a potion lab." Of all that she could have said, that embarrassment was the one that won out.

"I know that! I didn't mean…" He trailed off, flushing red with embarrassment and possibly something more.

A smile creeped across Lily's reddened face. It was almost mean spirited the way she enjoyed how he squirmed. There was just something so humorous about watching the stoic crumble. "Oh come now. Don't think I can't read the warning signs."

"Then kindly let go," Sev grumbled as he turned away, trying to twist from her grasp without touching her with his hands. "I'll have you know this is all involuntary."

"Surely not all of it," Lily teased as she conformed to his wishes. Still glowing he shuffled his stool away from hers, glowering with embarrassment. It actually made Lily feel guilty for all the light teasing she laid upon him. "Aww come on. Don't be like that Sev. I don't mean anything bad by it."

His black eyes glanced back to hers, his glower softening into something akin to a soft half-smile. "Then there is one person at least, not out to get me," Severus muttered almost as if to himself, words that threatened to wipe the smile from Lily's face.

It was too much of a reminder of how little Sev had. He used to tell her she was his best and only friend, the most precious thing he had. They were children then, and Lily, so simplistic of her views on the world, simply beamed at it and took them as she would any compliment she received.

She couldn't help it. Lily closed their gap and looped her arms around him, willing her feelings to be made known to him through touch, and not by her inexpert lips.

"Lily," he grumbled warningly, squirming under her grip.

"Apparate with me somewhere," she demanded suddenly, feeling the heat rise from her own boldness. "Anywhere we can be alone... First place you think of." But it wasn't so much of a big deal anymore in this day and age, was it? Why should it be?

She felt his arm settle upon her shoulder, his fingers stroke along her cheeks, tracing the angle of her chin. She felt his breath upon her hair as his hand slid down her neck, trailing down her arm, and taking her hand tightly. And without time to steel herself, she felt herself whisked away.

* * *

The summer's heat was near unbearable to Snape in his hideous patched up cardigan, but he was hesitant to remove it owing to the horrid faded yellow blouse he wore underneath. Another clothing item inherited from his mother, after it became too worn for her tastes.

Drawing out his wand, Snape tapped it across his form, laying down cooling charms evenly about his body. He turned to Lily with the offer to do the same for her. Instead he found her staring off into the distance, her face alight with wonder and confusion.

"Sev. Where are we?" she asked as she ran her fingers down the smooth grey bark of a sturdy beech tree. Her eyes glancing across the greens of the foliage and the spots of light that rained down from their cover. She turned her head at the sharp chirp from above her line of sight, then relaxed as she settled into the ambiance of birdsong.

Snape shuffled a little uncomfortably. "The Forest of Dean." He didn't know why that had been the first thing to pop into his head. It should have been the last place he wanted to revisit. But when she asked him to take her to the first place he thought of, that had been this spot in this unassuming woodland, before the small shimmering expanse of a glassy pond.

A pond he had visited in another season, in another lifetime. Why he had chosen this place, the forest where he came in search for another generation's infuriating Potter. The son that this Lily would never have.

The significance was lost on her. Why did he do this?

Snape scowled as his eyes followed her lithe form, slipping down to the rocks that rimmed the water's edge. "It's beautiful," she breathed, her eyes shining as she watched the golden light cascading through the leaves, playing off upon the calm surface of the still pond. "But I forget, which part of Britain is the Forest of Dean?"

"Gloucestershire." Snape answered as he stepped beside her, mentally chastising himself for invoking memories he'd much rather forget.

"You Apparated us across half the country?" Lily's bright green eyes were wide with surprise and more than a hint of admiration. "The move was so smooth too. I barely felt it. How can you be that good at Apparition already?"

Snape couldn't answer that truly, so he settled for a half-hearted grimacing smile. He settled himself upon the rock Lily perched on, trying to force himself to not wallow in his decision. For the most part Lily seemed to enjoy the field trip, and she seemed like she needed it, after tying herself into knots over him. Snape could see her concern worn plainly upon her face each time the topic wandered too close to his welfare.

But this time at least, she needn't be. Snape was managing at home, keeping well away from either parent, venturing out of his room only to use the bathroom or to pick through the leftovers after dinner finished. There usually wasn't much left, sometimes nothing at all. Snape was a little ashamed to admit but part of his assent to meet with Lily's family after expensing so much effort to avoid them had been due to the prospect of a full stomach.

It felt more pathetic the more he thought on it.

Snape twisted upon his perch. Of all the beauty about this forest in summer, it all paled before the beautiful creature that sat within its grove. The kind and gentle soul that had descended upon his life that one fateful summer so many years ago. So many more than she would remember.

She closed her eyes, enjoying the breeze that picked its way through the clearing. Snape watched her hair dance, her red hair shimmering like the fire it was painted by. So thankful, that she was alive and sitting beside him. That he had a second chance with her.

Perhaps that was why he brought her here. To the place where he had sent the avatar of her heart, and his, to guide the boy who would have been her son. An act that felt too intimate to the Professor who hid out of sight in the darkness of the frozen forest. Sending the boy the heart of his mother, the heart that resided within Snape's own.

But when the boy drew close to his Patronus, the light cast upon his awed face, sliding off his ridiculous glasses, Snape saw those bright green eyes, wide with wonder and awe, heedless of the potential dangers about him. In that moment, he was reminded so suddenly that he was Lily's son as well.

Did he bring her here to say goodbye to him? The thought made Snape feel all the worse. Largely owing to the fact that it would have been an entirely irrational line of thought. The boy did not exist yet, and Lily would not have the context.

Snape glowered, beginning to feel silly again.

Her hand suddenly flew to his sleeve, her face lit up with excitement. "Look!" She whispered urgently, pointing into the shaded shrubbery. A small fallow fawn hid within the cooling shade, holding as still as a statue. Within moments a doe picked its way past, calling out in its barking alarm, summoning the little creature to its side.

 _Sentimentality_. Snape thought as his heart clenched, the sight of the doe invoking memories of the creature within his heart. Within her heart as well.

"It's beautiful," Lily breathed, her fingers threading through his. He felt her hair tickle his neck as she laid her head upon his shoulder, invoking that dull ache of longing within. But that was the curse of youth, a beast that had to be leashed by his self-control.

She turned her head so her bright green eyes stared straight into his, smile upon her soft lips. "I didn't take you for the outdoors type."

"I'm not," Snape replied evenly. "I had simply been reading on the special properties in the plants that one could harvest from this location owing to the high concentration of iron within this area."

Somehow that excuse caused Lily to smile so brightly, full of humour and cheek. "So, I'm guessing we've just had another misunderstanding?" She asked sweetly.

Snape turned an eyebrow skywards. "You asked me to take you to the first place I thought of. I don't see how many different interpretations that request could take."

"Oh, don't worry about it. I like your idea far better," she replied somewhat mysteriously, little patches of red upon her cheeks, invoking a worried feeling in his gut he had missed something blisteringly obvious, and that it was going to come to him later in all its tragic stupidity.

Lily slipped from her perch, kneeling by the water's edge. Her smile, so soft but radiant, reflected upon the faultless water. She dipped her fingers into the pool, sending ripples across its calm glassy surface. "This reminds me so much of when I was young… Dad once took the whole family camping in Nottingham Forest. Oh, how Petunia hated it." She turned smiling towards the watching boy, flicking the water from her fingers in her playful way. "It was so long ago, before you and I even met… I don't know why I suddenly thought of it."

Snape said nothing as he continued to watch that beautiful spectre. A woman who should have no place for him within her life any longer, yet who inexplicably had chosen to take the exact opposite path. In a lithe motion, Lily slid back onto her rocky perch beside Snape. With a mischievous grin she flicked her still wet fingers, sending a spray of droplets into the Slytherin's face. Had it been anyone else, Snape would have been furious, but all he could do now was smile, his heart calm.

A gust of wind ebbed through, tousling her auburn locks over her shoulder. Snape reached over to take a lock between his fingers, letting the silky strand trickle through. He felt her fingers trail across his hairline, and burying deep into his thick dark hair, that intimate feeling of her trailing fingers pulling the hair taut across his scalp. He leant forward to kiss her, enjoying the sensations in their bright but private sphere.

How lucky he had gotten with this life. He would never give this up.

As they drew apart, Lily giggled, "Your breath is cold." Snape responded by blowing a sharp trail across her neck, causing her to squeak and burst into another fit of giggles.

"Cooling charm," he told her with a kiss beneath her jaw, tasting a hint of salt. "I can cast it upon you too if you wish."

"I need you to teach me, that's what I need." She heaved a sigh that was only half in jest. "What happened? I swear I should be better at charms than you."

"I've had a lot of time, and a lot of reason to practice," Snape murmured as he kissed her again lightly on the neck, letting his cold breath play upon her skin. She squirmed as if tickled, her giggles shaking her frame. His own boldness invoked by her positive response. The only woman who had ever welcomed his intimacy.

He felt her slide against him, locking her arms around him and resting her chin upon the dip in his right shoulder in her warm affections. He breathed out sharply, willing himself to calm; too physically aware of how willingly his young body would make a fool of him.

Hot breath tickled his neck, "When did you become so much fun?" He breathed out sharply in a silent puff of laughter, causing her to squirm under the burst of coolness. "Why can't you be like this more often?"

Her question put a damper on his mood. "I thought it was obvious."

She pulled back, leaning out of her embrace. Her green eyes searching out his. "Yeah. I suppose the deer won't judge you." She smiled that lopsided smile, but her eyebrows were pinched in a frown. "But... I just wish…" She hesitated, Snape could feel his smile melting away. "It's just that, if my dad knew how gentle and affectionate you can be, he wouldn't worry."

"Of course he will," Snape didn't mean to chastise her so sharply, but he could not stop the words from forming.

Those green eyes dropped, that lopsided smile receding on those soft lips. "It's not what you think…" she muttered. "His concern about you is… not what you think." Her fingers trailed down his arm to entwine with his fingers. "Please talk to him Severus. Talk to him, and be sincere. Show him who you are and lay his fears to rest."

If Snape showed the man who he was, he did not think any fears would be resting. "I will… try." He promised with a hint of reserve. "But I dislike wading into situations underprepared. Do you have any advice?"

Lily hesitated, a sheepish look passing over her features. "Just one. About my mum…"

* * *

"I am very sorry for your loss," Snape offered quite sincerely as he sat across a tea table from Lily's silently judging father. He'd had no idea that Lily's mother had passed away during that summer when everything changed. Lily had never mentioned it, something she had assured him had nothing to do with lingering angst. She had gotten over her loss, and so had her father, but a kind word of remembrance was never unwelcome. "She was a wonderful woman. So much that I love about Lily I understand to be from her. I'm sure her loss was profound." There were no words he felt more sincerely than those he just uttered. He understood how profound that loss could be.

"I appreciate it," Mr Evans replied evenly. As promising a start as Snape could have hoped. He briefly considered cheating with a skimming glance of Legilimency, but cast that thought aside after only moment's consideration. He would not employ such tactics to play Lily, why should it be different for her father? A man who had shown him kindness and concern as a child when nobody else had.

A man he had to convince of something Snape wasn't even entirely convinced of himself. That he was not a terrible choice for his daughter.

Lily had ducked out to prepare lunch, ensuring her father and her boyfriend had the privacy they needed to speak. Snape was uncertain if he was grateful for her consideration or troubled by the need for her to show it.

He could hear her right now, chopping away, no doubt still using her manual potioneering techniques rather than domestic spells. Nobody got good at domestic spells without fine tuning it with constant application. He had fond memories of Lily trying to teach him the skills of the stove when they were children, only to reveal she had been just as abysmal. It'd been at least five years since then, much of that spent in the company of Lily's far more culinary competent mother.

It was a strange thought to consider five years as any length of time. Had he actually been the age he pretended to be now, five years would have seemed like an eternity. He could imagine how terribly things would turn out had Lily's father realised how old her daughter's suitor truly was.

As it was, he was already fighting an uphill battle.

"I would like to start by saying, I appreciate you taking the time to speak to me," Snape began, as close to an interview session as he'd ever come. He had the blessed luck to land his horrid role within Hogwarts without ever needing to pass the ordinary channels.

A strange smile graced the older man's face. "Your manners have changed quite a way since we've last spoke, Severus." That was a promising compliment.

"Thank you, Mister Evans. I'd like to think I've matured since then." Matured quite a bit more than anybody here could realistically guess. "I'd like to think I'm not the same little monster you remember."

Mr Evan's brows crinkled. "That may be so, Severus. But I fear that may not be enough."

A fear that Snape shared. "Yes sir. I understand that. I have no money and no means, and have no way to assure you of your fears. I can only promise to carve my path the moment opportunity becomes available to me."

"I have no doubt you will, Severus. You have always been very promising in that department. I have never doubted your determination."

Snape frowned, this wasn't what he was expecting. He had prepared to argue his case with the figures from his grades and the litany of skills he had equipped himself with. A proposal of a stable future he was certain he could provide for Lily. They may never be wealthy, but he would ensure she would be comfortable.

But then what fault was Lily's father finding with him? "I'm afraid then I'm not understanding what is wrong. Lily and I have been friends for years so you know it is not commitment that I lack. My behaviour as a child had been deplorable, but I promise you I have grown out of my… ill-bred mannerisms."

A wry smile touched the older man's lips, making the skin wrinkle around the corners. "I can see Lily did not speak of it to you. I wondered if she would. I also wondered what you would have told her." A tendril of concern touched Snape's heart. "I will be frank with you Severus. You were never what I had in mind for my daughter. I had never thought you had a chance. But it seemed the women of the Evans family have a predisposition of choosing ugly men. Something I had never stopped being thankful for." He smiled in a self-disparaging way.

"So, it is because… I'm ugly?" That was not the issue he expected from a parent.

"Not at all. I mean if that's not an issue for my little girl, I don't see why that would be my business," Mr Evans continued, further baffling Snape. "My concern is for her welfare, and always will be."

In that they found common ground. "I will protect her. I swear it."

A small sad smile touched the man's wary face. "But who'll protect her from you?"

Silence fell between them as Snape struggled to process the question. "I'm sorry?"

"Severus." Mr Evans leaned forward, resting his hands flat upon his knees. "Your nature worries me. I have watched you grow up and remember so distinctly of how unstable you could be. You run hot and cold without warning. Every time I spoke to you I did not know whether you would withdraw or lash out. I fear what you could do to my daughter."

"I grew up," Snape rasped a reply, his blood running cold. He could not outrun his past, even the past he had no control over. "I am not that same child I swear."

"And you have already hurt my daughter with intention and cutting words."

Snape froze, his heart thudded dully in his chest. "I-"

He could not deny it. He had hurt Lily so badly, worse than anybody could suspect. Worse than even what her father was accusing him of. He fell silent, shaking his head, unable to form a word to defend himself. In the kitchen he heard the sound of chopping cease, Lily was listening. But Snape had nothing he could say to lay their worries to rest.

It was true, he had hurt Lily. Hurt her worse than anyone ever had. He who had professed to be her best friend, had sold her and her child to a murdering madman. For what? Glory? Petty revenge?

He had always known he had a streak of his father about him. He could not be happy, so he took it out on others, many of whom who had not deserved it. The idea that he might hurt Lily… it was not so farfetched that he could deny it.

And it sickened him to the core.

"I-I'm sorry," Snape gasped as he stumbled to his feet. He could not even look Mr Evans in his calm chartreuse eyes. Without another word to his host, without realising that he was moving, Snape found himself on the other side of the front door, and he did not look back.

* * *

Lily could not help herself. The moment she heard the tone of those voices drop, she dropped her knife and huddled by the kitchen door. She knew what her father was going to drop upon Severus, and she hoped, hoped so badly that he could win her father over with a show of his sincerity. That sweet heart he offered to her so willingly.

But all she heard through that door was a muffled stutter, and the sound of feet striding briskly to the sound of a closing door.

Lily tumbled into the living room, eyes wide as she sought out her father's. The chair before him stood empty. Without another word Lily strode towards the door, yanking it open to an empty street.

A hand fell onto her wrist. "Wait," her father commanded.

Rounding on her father, she demanded, "What did you do?"

"I spoke to him, as I said I would, Lily," her father replied calmly. "He… did not put me to ease."

"Of course he wouldn't if you pursue him like a witch-hunt!" Lily hissed, yanking her hand from her father's grasp.

Those lime-green eyes narrowed. "I did no such thing, Lily. I gave him a chance to explain himself, but he chose to run instead."

"How? How did you want him to explain himself? Promise you he'd never hurt me? Deny that he ever did?"

"Neither would put me at ease." He confessed. "Perhaps nothing would."

Lily glared, flabbergasted. She was essentially accessory to having pitted Sev into an unwinnable situation. "People make mistakes, dad! Who hasn't? Every little boy has hurt people intentionally and unintentionally!"

"He was not a little boy when he hurt you!" Her father suddenly and loudly demanded. "He should have been at the age where he knew right from wrong!" Lily startled. She never expected her father to raise his voice. Not her kind and gentle father. "Lily, listen to me." Her father's voice softened, urging desperately to his errant daughter. "That darkness is part of Severus' nature. It may have been planted unwillingly, but it is a part of him now. And every surrender he makes to his worst nature is one step closer to regret for you."

Her father only sought to protect her. It was every father's right, and duty. But all Lily could think of was Severus, returning alone to that terrible household of his, weighed down with his failure in an unwinnable battle. She didn't want him to believe it was over. She didn't want him to lose hope.

Lily backed away one step, green eyes wide as she met her father's.

"Lily. What are you doing?" he asked, worry creasing his thick russet brows.

"Finding Severus," she breathed, as she turned and winked away.

* * *

It was not part of her nature to disobey her father so directly like that. Lily's actions stirred guilt within her insides, and vicious self-righteousness in equal measures.

She glared down the dilapidated rows of houses on Spinner's End. She had only been in this street once, as a child, following Severus without his knowledge to see where he lived. She only knew now how silly a decision that had been. How badly it could have easily gone.

But this was the environment Severus had to endure every day back then. The only saving grace he had was the prospect of returning to Hogwarts, and then onto the future. Turning his back to this wretched place forever.

Lily stepped to the door, hand hesitating upon the knocker. What if she was wrong? What if Severus didn't return home? Why would he? He could Apparate and knew beautiful places like that forest pond.

But a journey to Gloucestershire did not feel like a first resort. If he wasn't home, she'll just politely apologise and leave. Was she a Gryffindor or wasn't she?

It appeared she stood debating to herself for too long, because the front door yanked open and Severus glared darkly down at her. "You shouldn't be here," he whispered harshly.

"Excuse me? I wouldn't be here if you didn't just leave." She didn't know why she was so close to tears, everything just felt so out of control. "You come back with me. Come back with me right now and fix the situation!"

His dark eyes flickered to the side as he seemed to shrink inwards. "This isn't a good time," he whispered, his tone urgent.

"Do not hover by the door and bring her inside." A deep commanding voice boomed from within. Lily startled, in her mind that terrible figure of his father loomed from her subconscious fears.

But Snape grimaced and stepped aside, holding the door open to beckon her in, dispelling any thought that the voice belonged to Tobias Snape. For Lily could not imagine Severus willingly allow her to meet his father.

She had never seen the inside of Severus' house before, and the first thing that hit her was the terrible fumes. She had smelled the substance upon him in the past, but she could never imagine it was this terrible.

They walked a short distance to the sitting room, with Severus never looking once towards her. She did not understand what was happening. He had only a two minute head start, what could possibly have happened?

But when she stepped into the sitting room, her confusion only compounded. As within a fine black and obviously conjured black leather armchair sat an ancient man in fine tailored robes. Beside him stood a House Elf, standing slouched and evidently ill. Severus' mother was there too, sitting silently with eyes downcast. This was all painting a situation that Lily should not have disturbed.

"This is Lily Evans," Severus introduced with a most startlingly formal tone. "A neighbour, and fellow student at Hogwarts."

Those ancient black eyes narrowed, holding hers transfixed. "A muggle-born," he spat derisively, causing Lily's temper to rise in response. She suddenly felt a hand upon her shoulder, Severus was beseeching calm. "So, she's the reason you refuse my offer?" The old man continued, outrage burning in those pitch-black eyes.

"She is," her Severus answered, but made no move to defend her.

"The apple doesn't fall far from the tree indeed," the pureblood spat. "Just like your mother you would sully your line further." The woman shrank in her seat, as if recoiling from a blow.

"I had never presumed myself worthy of your offer, sir," Severus replied evenly. For the life of her, Lily could not fathom why he was behaving so docilely to such barbed insults. That the proud boy would never admit he was unworthy of anything?

"Then you know what must happen, boy," the vile old man sneered from his seat.

Severus glanced to his mother, a look exchanged for but the briefest of moments. "We won't see each other again," she said, barely a whisper.

Severus bowed his head in acknowledgement, "Goodbye. Lady Prince."

And with those words, the elf reached over to take both purebloods by the elbow and winked away. Leaving only Lily and Severus standing by the entranceway to a suddenly very empty room.

* * *

Perched upon the seat that Severus' mother just vacated, Lily wept bitterly into a conjured handkerchief. The son, however, hovered awkwardly about her, not quite certain as to what to say or do. Severus had been the one that just said goodbye to his mother, yet here he was trying to comfort her. A bark of laughter tore through Lily's tears, puncturing her wracking sobs with giggles that no doubt frightfully confused the boy.

He had explained to her what happened after everything had resolved. He sat her down to do so, no doubt expecting something emotional to come out of her. How well he knew her.

He hadn't even finished the story about his mother returning to his pureblood grandfather when Lily dissolved into wretched tears. The moment they came, Severus stood from his seat and offered a handkerchief from the ethers, so prepared for her empathetic hurt.

"Why didn't he take you too?" she demanded through her hitching breath, laughter dying as quickly as they came. "Is it because you're half-blood?"

He turned his eyes away, unwilling to answer. The truth dawned on Lily with rising horror. "He did offer to take you? And you turned him down… for me?"

"I was not… I could not. Will not, give you up," he growled, suddenly stopping in his stride before her.

He gave up wealth, a legacy, a title… for her? "But… that was everything you always wanted."

"Not everything," he returned fiercely, his eyes meeting hers with dark and burning emotion. "Not even close."

A weak watery smile shone through Lily's teary countenance. She reached out for him, to which he obliged by stepping forward and kneeling into her open hands. She stroked his hair tenderly, pushing those strands behind his ear. He closed his eyes to the sensation, seemingly content, beyond all belief, with his choice.

"I can only promise you that I would be a better man than your father thinks I would be," he mumbled, stirring skittering emotions within Lily's heart.

"Then it will be enough," she murmured, leaning in to touch her lips upon his forehead. She had to somehow find a way to resolve this with her father. She was not giving Severus up.

This moment they shared wound to a close, with the sound of the front door opening, and a great bellow. "Eileen! Wh-where the hell is- lunch?"

Lily startled as Severus was on his feet in an instant, striding to the door just as his father, Tobias Snape appeared in the entrance way, staring incredulously at the girl sitting within. It became apparent in an instant how much taller Severus' father was to him. Even at the age of seventeen, his father towered above him by another good foot and a half, hinting of the potential Severus had, if only he had been taken care of during his period of growth.

The man's large belly hung over his belt, the ends of his stained shirt hanging loosely from the corners of his straining belt, a vilifying contrast with the near emaciated frame of his son. A thick beard hung upon his chin, a deep brown, flecked with more than a few streaks of grey. Above that sat a pronounced hook nose, a family resemblance that could not be denied. Yet it sat far more comfortably upon his large thick face than that of his thin son.

The man swayed dangerously as he stood, within his arms clutched a paper bag, holding its clinking cargo. He reeked of alcohol such that, even from where Lily sat, she could notice the smell increase tenfold.

The drunk man took one unsteady step into lounge room, only to be stopped by a wand beneath his chin. "Not another step, father."

He stopped as he was bade, but if it was due to the awareness of the threat, he did not show it upon his face. "Who da hell is she?" he slurred, eyes narrowed and staring as if he couldn't quite trust his sight. "You look a little too fine for this side of town. Now, what are you doing, all, the way down here. You lost, little girl?"

He took another swaying step forward, and Severus was suddenly in front of him, physically blocking his route to Lily. The man glared downwards, almost as if only noticing his son's presence. "Was my half-wit son here bothering you, little miss?" he spoke deliberately into Severus' face, no doubt spraying him with a powerful whiff of his drunk breath, trying to intimidate his son out of his way with his towering size. "Now why would you be holding such a fine young lady in here, boy?"

She didn't like what was happening before her eyes. She stood quickly, hands clenched by her side, wishing she had the forethought to bring her wand with her. "He's my boyfriend!" she declared forcefully, causing the man to swing around to her with an expression of incredulity.

Then the laughter came. "Boyfriend, she said!" He bellowed his laughter, spewing his alcohol tinted breath across the room. "You hear that, Eileen? She said our idiot boy is her boyfriend!" No reply came, and the rowdy man settled into his quieter confusion. "Eileen?" he tried again into the empty decaying hallway.

Severus' calm voice lanced through the ensuing silence, "Mother left. She will not be back."

The large man rounded upon his son slowly, drawing up to his full intimidating size. "What did you say?" he demanded in a deep threatening growl.

Not in the least cowed, Severus repeated himself. "Mother left. She will not be back."

With an enraged snarl, a fist flew to Sev's throat, taking a hold of his tattered collar and yanking him forward. The paper bag of bottles clattered to the ground, somehow not shattering on impact as the large man drew his massive hand back, ready to deliver a blow.

He did not get a chance to strike. Without even a word, the muggle man was sent flying back into the hallway, slamming heavily into the opposite wall. With an ugly snarl, he scrambled unsteadily to his feet. With an almost bored flick of his wand, Severus sent the man stumbling backwards again, and tumbling against the wall. A sneer of disgust painted across the younger Snape's face, not even hiding his vicious enjoyment over this turn of the tables,

"Severus, stop." Lily laid a hand upon the shoulder of the vengeful son, giving him pause in his assault. "He's no threat to you. Stop," she pleaded, eyes wide. This was the dark side of Severus her father had warned about, a side he could not give surrender to.

His wand lowered, his dark hateful eyes dulled. Sev turned to her, his rage calmed, and relief flooded Lily's heart. He was more than his worst. Far more. He would not be a man like his father.

But that relief was short lived, as a thick hand flew from the darkness and grabbed Severus by the thickness of his hair, dragging the young wizard backwards.

Without even a cry of surprise, Severus flicked his wand over his shoulder, casting a wordless stinging hex into the muggle man's face. The swelling did not slow the man, it only served to further enrage him. With violent agility unexpected of a man of such slovenly build, Tobias Snape slammed his fist into the unprotected side of Severus' head, landing the blow with a sickening thud and splitting the skin above his brow.

"Stop it!" Lily screamed, grabbing a hold of the father's arm as it drew back for another strike, only barely softening the blow that landed against Severus' jaw. She wished so badly she had her wand on her, cursing her own underprepared nature. Muttering under her breath she attempted a wandless binding curse, only to have the man respond swiftly against the sound of her incantation.

A blow struck her, sending her reeling against the floor. Lily lay, dazed and shaken as she stared up into Severus' shocked eyes. With smouldering rage, he pointed his wand over his shoulder and hissed, "Sectumsempra!"

Blood rained down upon Lily in a fine mist. Tobias Snape reeled and stumbled, howling as he clutched at his face, blood seeping through his fingers. Lily stared on horrified as Severus slid swiftly to her side, taking her hand and yanking her to her feet. Before she knew it, they were out the front door, leaving the haze of alcoholic vapours and howling agony behind.

As the fresh air swept the numbing horrors from her mind, Lily dug in her heels forcing the boy clinging on to her to stop. He yanked her hand hard, trying to force her to keep moving but she refused. She clutched at him, forcing him to be still, to look at her in the eye through his rigid fury and panting breath.

"You fix this!" she demanded, horrified by the blood she had seen pouring through that horrid man's fingers. "You get back inside and you fix this!"

"He deserved worse!" Severus hissed, suddenly more terrifying than Lily had ever known him to be. Blood poured over his eye, from the split upon his brow. More blood then she expected from a small cut, painting his fury with its terrifying visual. "And you! Don't you dare put yourself in danger like that again!"

Anger directed at her, anger at her actions to protect him. "I'm alright," Lily urged, eyes wide, pleading. "I'm alright. Don't worry about me, I'm alright." She felt the stinging smart across her cheeks, but she knew the blood on her was not her own. She was struck hard, but with only the back of the man's hand, a blow that dazed her but had not drawn blood.

"Don't ever put yourself between me and danger!" he screamed, his emotions as close to uncontrolled in recent memory. "Never put yourself in the way of physical harm!"

"I'm alright!" Lily insisted, but Severus did not calm, taking her by the wrist in an almost painful grasp.

"It only takes once for you to be beyond my help! I cannot lose you!" His hand was shaking from emotion far deeper than just one blow he could not prevent. Her heart ached from his anguish, emotions she could not understand the depth of. With gentle fingers, she laid them upon his hand, softening his grip upon her with a touch, and after a moment, his breathing calmed too. His touch became gentle, stroking down the length of her reddened wrist, just shy of bruised by the harshness of how tightly he held her.

"Sorry," he rasped, ashamed beyond words. "I- I'll fix this." He withdrew and without another word proceeded back into that unwelcoming house, facing the howling threats issuing from within.

Lily stood numb, watching after his retreating figure. Her mind awhirl with the terrifying darkness of his personality. In that moment, he had been as far from the boy she loved as she could possibly imagine.

A sinister side of Severus, one that invoked memories of that boy that would lash out at the only person who was trying to help him. His dark side that her father had warned of. His terrible nature that strangled him in his youth, a curse he had not been able to free himself from.

But he had already changed so much in the span of a year. More than Lily could have ever asked for. A change that opened her eyes to the light he had within. A light that held her heart mesmerised by its unexpected beauty.

A light she would not see lost to his strangling darkness.

Her father had feared his darkness would bring her to harm, but to Lily the fear of losing that light would be the far greater tragedy.

* * *

A/N: Whether or not Snape once had the potential to be abusive is really up to interpretation - he certainly didn't do himself any favours with how he treated his non-Slytherin students. But I also believe he has enough strength of character and perspective to never lower himself so. If one thing is absolutely true about Severus, it's that he's completely devoted to Lily, and every other aspect of his personality would be open to change provided he keeps her happy, hale and safe. Alas in real life, things are rarely so clean cut, and hearts are rarely so straight. I in no way condone risking an abusive relationship. That shit ain't cool.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 7th April 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 31: Fostered Understanding**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	31. Fostered Understanding

**Chapter 31: Fostered Understanding**

The sheets were soft, too soft against his skin. Snape curled inwards on the unbruised side of his head, unable to mentally adjust to the new situation he found himself in. The bed he lay in was as large as the queen-sized luxury he had in his professorial years. He was a guest in the Evans Household, sleeping in the room that had once been Petunia's. How that wretch of a woman would bewail had she known for whom her sanctuary was now used. Having spent the better part of this year crammed into a small single bed, he could not utilise his newfound space economically.

His great oaf of a father had thrown him out of the house the moment the last of his bleeding curse wounds had stitched together. There wasn't even a moment to gather his things. He was left on the sidewalk with only the clothes on his back, blood still pouring sluggishly across his eye.

Lily was by his side in an instant, pulling him up off the pavement as the door slammed closed. Her eyes filled with an apprehensive emotion, but her hands were quick to encircle him. She held him close, and he returned the embrace desperately, standing there in the silence with his eyes pathetically downcast. He was a full-fledged wizard, yet even he had little notion of what should be his immediate recourse when he found himself suddenly homeless.

It was perhaps the mockery of the fates that a solution appeared in the form of Lily's father, pulling up beside them.

"Get in! The both of you!" he had barked in a voice that brooked no argument. And none was given as both teenagers spilled into the back, with Snape trying his best not to bleed all over the seats. Fumbling through a compartment, the muggle healer retrieved a folded wad of white material from within a crisp plastic covering. "Press the gauze firmly against the wound, keep pressure to stop the bleed. Do you need to go to the hospital, Severus?"

"No," Snape answered in a low voice, his energy having bled from him along with his rage. His eyes trailed to the girl who pressed the gauze upon his brow, heedless of the ruddy redness upon her cheek where she had been struck

"He can't return to that awful man!" Lily urged her father with wide pleading eyes. "He just can't!"

"He won't," Mr Evans promised without a moment's hesitation.

With that, Snape had been committed as a guest of the Evan's residence, and it humiliated him to be forced to accept. He had no other option, and no other means. The family had been by no means inhospitable, going out of their way to have a place for him at their table and a room for him to sleep, even his own set of bathrobes so he didn't have to change entirely in the bathroom. Except that was what he did ordinarily anyway. Yet it only served to gall the wizard further, forced to rely on the kindness of a man who would deny Snape as a suitor for his daughter.

A decision made not without good reason.

Snape balled his hands into fists, feeling his neatly cropped fingernails dig into his lightly calloused palms. He had held Lily so tightly he marked her skin, force that came unbidden through the vortex of his emotions. She had not reacted in pain, even though he knew he must have hurt her. She gently coaxed him into calm and release, even though he knew she must have wished to tear herself from his grasp.

What was he doing in her life? Had he not brought her enough damnation? But think as he might, he knew he did not have it in himself to tear himself away. His selfishness knew no limits.

With a curl of his spine, Snape drew under the thin covers despite the heat, veiling away the harsh relief the moonlight cast through. Trying to dispel the self-loathing that clung to his heart. Two lifetimes of failures, and he thought he'd get this right?

 _What am I doing?_ Men like him didn't find love. Men like him didn't have a happily ever after.

He had managed thirty-eight years of life without a romantic entanglement. Thirty-eight years of abject loneliness. Why did he think he should be allowed to seek happiness with the very woman he had wronged? The only person that ever cared about him, the only woman he ever loved, the woman he had killed. He had hurt her worse than anyone ever had.

And she didn't even know it. He took advantage of her ignorance, seduced her, somehow, with his clumsy persistence. And he never looked back, never once paused to think about her, what she deserved.

She did not deserve _him_.

A gentle touch upon his brow brought him startlingly into the waking world. Snape hadn't even realised he drifted off fitfully until he was startled awake and in his hand was grasped the intruder to his sanctuary under his covers. Lily's slender wrist. He released it immediately, fearful he had hurt her again with his brash motion. With a hush, those fingers touched upon his sweat-stained brow, brushing his hair back in a gentle motion.

"What are you doing here?" Snape hissed, scrambling back underneath his blankets. He had not a nightshirt to sleep in, having been denied access to any of his personal affects.

Those fingers danced across his scalp, soothing his suddenly jangled nerves. "I noticed you had silencing wards up… So, I thought I'd check up on you," she murmured her answer as she knelt beside the bed. "I thought you might have tried to slip out in the night in some misguided attempt to convenience us. I got worried when I saw you huddled in bed. Thought you might have used a pillow decoy like we often encounter with out of bed curfew breakers."

"I'm not a Gryffindor," Snape snapped, feeling the heat upon his exposed face as he clutched the sheets under his chin.

Lily smiled that lopsided grin. "No. But you're upset. And people tend to do silly things when they're upset. So, for tonight you're excused for not acting the perfect Slytherin." She brought her fingers from his hair, trailing them down the side of his face, sending an involuntary shiver down his body.

"I'm fine," he muttered, willing away the uncomfortable hormonal charge brought about by Lily's after-dark proximity. He was trying to sleep so he was nowhere near decent. How could he be? She should know this. And Merlin, she wasn't either!

Snape froze as his eyes grew wide, taking in her lithe form in the relief of moonlight. A simple white chemise embraced the contours of her form, a nightgown was all that stood between her and her dignity. Snape closed his eyes as the blood rushed to his face, in utter disbelief that anybody could be so absentminded as to walk into another's room so underdressed.

"No, you're not," her exasperated voice sounded too close to his ear, so close he could feel the heat of her breath. "You just said goodbye to your mother, and had a fight with your father, and lost your home, all at once. You would be made of stone to not feel that." He felt those fingers trail back up from his chin, brushing against his no doubt burning cheeks. She hesitated, no doubt finally noticing what her unannounced, underdressed presence was doing to him.

Her voice suddenly rang out, awkwardly loudly, "Well? Move over."

His eyes cracked open wide as disbelief flooded his features. He could not see her face clearly enough to discern what she was thinking. It couldn't be what his hormone-addled mind was hoping for. Losing patience, Lily suddenly clambered over him, settling on the opposite end of his barely occupied bed.

"What are you doing?" he hissed as she attempted to get under his covers, glowing so red he was certain he was luminescent.

"Just stop hogging the sheets," Lily retorted, her cheek-filled smile obvious even in the dim half-light, and proceeded to unspool the roll from about his body.

Snape could barely unstick his jaw in shock as the warm palm of her hand touched against his bare torso. She pulled him close under the thin covers, invoking sweat along the trails of her touch, and not simply from the heat.

"Don't even think about it! It's not happening!" he rasped, uncertain if it was for her benefit or his. Snape would not be so ungrateful as to violate the daughter of a man who was sheltering him. A man who disapproved already of the young suitor's role in her life.

He felt her hesitate, she whispered an almost amused reply, tickling his ear. "What's going on in there, I wonder?" she asked with a quick peck upon his forehead, and without a hint of genuine query. "How quick you jump to conclusions, Sev." He felt her arm slip about him, felt her softness press against his side, separated from his skin by a thin film of lightly woven cloth. A tender embrace he was simply too tense to enjoy. "I just don't want you to be alone tonight."

"I… appreciate it. But…" Snape gritted out from between his teeth, his entire body radiating heat in the most pleasant ways,

He heard her whisper a spell, and suddenly the external heat dropped a noticeable fraction, allowing his disgusting sweating a moment's reprieve. He had only taught Lily his tricks for a cooling charm this morning and she was already applying them wandlessly with expert ease.

"Just sleep," she murmured, already half-asleep herself. Her fingers made light stroking motions against his bare side, running over his visibly exposed and usually quite ticklish ribs. A motion intended to calm him within her mind, no doubt, but sending every nerve in his body aflutter.

"Lily!" He hissed urgently as she stopped moving, her arm draped about him still. Her body, pressed against his side. She had fallen asleep in his bed, dressed in nothing but a thin summer's nightgown, splayed across him in an errant attempt to comfort him.

And she expected him to sleep?

* * *

What surprised Lily the most was how unsurprised she was to awaken back into her own bed. She had been quite certain she had fallen asleep next to Severus the night before, a very obvious change of landscape to the sunny diffusion of her bright red and gold wallpaper. She huffed and rolled her eyes to an absent audience. It was such a typical Severus thing to do to go to all that trouble of levitating her sleeping form all the way back into her bed.

Her presence couldn't have been that unwelcome considering how he reacted, wide-eyed and radiating heat and nervousness. If she was perfectly honest, she had expected things to take a turn for realms unexplored. Almost… counted on it.

She had found him curled under his sheets, eyes clenched tight as if his thoughts pained him. She could tell he was upset, though he tried not to show it. Her easily moved heart beat all the louder for his grief, this unfixable portion of his unstable life. She didn't want him to be alone this night, and in her mind a nerve wracking decision was made.

It turned out she needn't have been so worked up.

With a huff she rose from her bed, stripping her nightgown off as she headed to the wardrobe to find a change of clothes as she fastened on her feminine support, browsing through her selection of light sleeveless dresses to go with this horridly muggy day. Perhaps she should take a leaf from Severus' book and lay the cooling charm upon herself, but she didn't think she could take the discomfort that the disparity in temperature brought.

With a quick flick of her wand, Lily opened the blinds and cracked open a window. No wind arose to break apart the mugginess but the clouds gathered dark about the sun. Perhaps there would be relief later in the day to be brought on by some refreshing sweeping rains. One could only hope.

She glanced at herself in the long mirror hanging on the door of her wardrobe, hating how frizzy her hair got in the humidity. She brought a conjured brush down the length of her hair, trying to tame the errant fuzz back into its neat sleekness. But like Severus, her hair was not reacting as she was expecting it to.

Sev had turned her down before she had gotten the nervous offer verbally hinted, causing her to quickly change tact and settle for a cuddle. It wasn't a terrible alternative, it had been quite nice when the temperature adjusted, but she had been mentally preparing herself to take the next step for a while now, in a vague back-of-the-mind sense. It had been playing on the fringes of her mind ever since Marlene rushed headlong into her extremely physical relationship. A relationship that, if she was at all honest, looked like a lot of fun. And if she was perfectly honest, a relationship she had begun… kind of looking forward to. Though the thought sent a flush of red down her body.

Severus had certainly been eager before, when the offer wasn't even on the table. Perhaps she had reacted badly enough that one time so that he was extremely hesitant to assume anything again. But that didn't make sense. He had realised what she was trying to do and had put a stop to it. It made her a little nervous to think about. He did still find her attractive, right? Her hair certainly wasn't misbehaving last night as it did now.

She stared at herself hard in the mirror, suddenly finding faults everywhere upon her face and body; like the freckles of which she had a light smattering over her nose and down the tops of her cheeks, or the little creases around her eyes when she had them opened wide. She ran her hands down the length of her bare torso, studying the little dents and imperfections that occasioned on her smooth skin when she finally shook herself out of her ridiculous thoughts. A little longer in this direction and she'd be practicing smiling in front of the mirror. There was only enough room in this relationship for one set of self-esteem issues.

Lily hadn't stared at herself so critically since the months preceding puberty, criticising every development of her newly acquired feminine traits. Then the spots came, and she could not step past a mirror without dedicating time for each one. Thankfully they were always few, and never lasted too long. Not like the spots Severus would get, they would spread across his face and not recede until school's end. But like most things in Sev's life, he seemed to have grown out of this too.

With an awkward smile, she slipped on her light summer dress, a sleeveless piece she would have ordinarily chosen for a hot day spent at home. Giving herself one last once over, she lamented the state of her hair and surrendered to its frizzy madness. She was about as presentable as she could possibly be, and relented to her day.

In the hallway, Lily glanced briefly to the opened door of the now-empty guestroom. With some luck he was down at breakfast, and not half way across the country and hiding among the herds of deer, accepted as one of their own, his Patronus venerated as their grand ruler.

Trying desperately to strip the smile her silly thoughts invoked, Lily ventured towards the kitchen. She could hear movement from within, and at least one voice pitched low, so unless one of the men in her life had suddenly taken to talking to himself then both were in there. With barely a moment to steel herself for what could be some very awkward encounters, she found herself in the midst of that dimly lit room of mild aromas.

Her father was sitting comfortably in his usual chair, rifling through his paper. His mug of that awful bitter brew in its usual place by his right hand, while a plate of unappetising brown bread sat at his left. She felt for her father and his need to take meticulous care with his meals.

Few men loved anything as much as her father had loved his food. Whether fishing, hunting or travelling, it always seemed every other hobby was a way for him to acquire new culinary experiences. Even when Lily first entered the magical world, the most exciting part of the whole experience was to try magical cuisine. Lily could remember the first time they experienced Diagon Ally together, her father was immediately drawing up plans to fit a visit to every wizarding eatery in sight. Lily always felt it a shame that she only got acquainted to Honeydukes after her father's medical condition was diagnosed. He would have loved their colourful whimsical treats.

To see him reduced to simple meals of carbohydrate-careful meal staples was honestly disheartening.

Across from him sat Sev, silent and nursing an equivalent cup to her father, which he seemed to be rationing with a near desperate relish. He had been eating through a bowl of plain oats, already scraped clean and toasted brown bread, reduced to a bite and some crumbs. Dark bruising covered his right eye, pooling around a pocket of black swelling underneath. Though difficult to tell, his usually quite sunken eyes seemed a fraction darker than usual. His glowering pits, seemed that little bit less alert. It did not seem he managed to find his way back into the folds of sleep. With her clearer thoughts restored by the waking world, she had to concede that perhaps surprising him in bed was not the best way to do things.

"Morning," Lily announced, catching the attention of both men. There seemed to be a pleasing aura of truce between them.

"Good morning," her father answered, glancing over his paper as Severus nodded his greeting, somehow still not meeting her eyes. Why did it have to be awkward? Her father's attention however was far less easy to shake. "Young lady, what are you wearing?" he asked sternly.

Lily's brows raised as she glanced down at herself. "Umm… what I usually wear when it's hot?"

"You are most certainly not. Have you forgotten we have a guest over?"

Lily tried her best not to roll her eyes. That was the quickest way to a grounding. "It's only my shoulders, dad. Sev knows what shoulders look like." Sev did not venture an opinion, he seemed far more enthralled by the wisps issuing from his coffee cup.

With a sigh her father beseeched the ceiling, relenting to Lily's will by means of silence as she swept into the room and helped herself to the oatmeal from the saucepan on the stove. Her father usually never made porridge, always complaining it had no flavour or texture especially now he was forced to eat it without any sweetness. Lily was thankful she at least could enjoy it in the way it was originally intended as she brought over the honeypot and spooned copious amounts of the golden substance into her bowl of thickened oats. She was the only one that used the honey now that her mother had died and Petunia had moved away.

"Thanks for the gruel, dad," Lily chirped, taking a luxurious sip of the creamy sweet goodness.

Her father took a bite of his buttered toast and returned to his paper. "You're welcome but I didn't make it."

With surprise she turned to that unsociable boy, "You can cook?"

"It's just porridge. It's hardly cooking," he mumbled into his bowl.

Except Lily didn't think it was something to simply dismiss. "That's plenty good considering dad didn't even know how the stove worked before mom died."

"Excuse me missy." Her father re-emerged from behind his paper. "I distinctly remember warming your bottles on the stove."

"Way to cite a recent example, dad."

Black eyes slid across the table, wry amusement wrought upon them, before flickering away with the barest of blushing scowls. "If I didn't know how to procure even the basics of sustenance then I would have starved."

Lily felt a painful twinge of sadness. "Your parents didn't take care of you." It was a statement more than a question.

"They didn't take care of themselves," he grumbled, taking a bite of that dull bread and seeming satisfied with its unimaginative flavour. She wondered why he didn't add anything at all. She knew he would hate marmalade, but he could have at the very least used butter.

With the sound of crinkling of paper, her father set the newspaper down, folded beside his coffee. "I'm very sorry to hear that Severus, I understand you had been protecting Lily from your father when you sustained those injuries." Lily had explained to her father the gist of what happened last night when Severus left to get settled, with a few embellishments here and there to shine a more heroic light on the battered boy.

"He still struck her," Sev spat with a glower, as if he took it as his own personal failure.

A small smile touched her father's face, that very one he had whenever he felt a touch of pride. "I thank you for your efforts, Severus. It is a very brave thing to stand up to your father as you did."

Those black eyes snapped up from his glower at his half-eaten toast, frowning as if uncertain how to respond. However, Lily didn't let him get a word out, fearful he would discredit her take on the situation and ruin his chance to make good with her father. "Yeah you were great, Sev. Thanks for saving me. It could have been a lot worse had you not stood up to your dad."

"You're welcome," he replied evenly, those dark eyes finally meeting hers, but with an appraising look and a little bit of amused appreciation.

Lily grinned, delighted that he was playing along. "Now, mind passing me the marmalade, you big hero you?"

"You're not dumping that directly into your oats, are you?" he asked with mild disgust.

"What's it to you?" she retorted, half contemplating to do just that to mess with him. However, when the marmalade slid to a stop before her, even she couldn't stomach that for a joke. "Now before I summon, do we actually have any white bread in the house."

Her father sighed, "No, Lily. Please don't do that to our neighbours again. Greg still swears his kitchen is haunted."

"That's why I asked first," she grumbled, summoning two slices of brown bread from the packaging with a wave of her wand. The slices toasted mid-flight and landed neatly upon a plate conjured before her.

Her father munched his toast with proud delight. Ever since he found out about the existence of magic he fell in love with the very concept, and this was the first time she was able to bring it home with her.

"Pity there's no spell to spread the marmalade magically." Lily complained as she fiddled with the butterknife like a muggle. However, seemingly intent on one-upping her, Severus proved her wrong. With a flick of his own wand, a globule of Marmalade flew out of the jar and spread itself perfectly mathematically evenly across her squares of toast. "Fine. I meant no spells that I know of. Doesn't count when Severus invents spells."

"I didn't invent it. It's a basic domestic spell," Sev grumbled into his coffee cup.

Lily's eyebrows shot up. "Did your mother teach you that spell?" It didn't feel likely.

Severus flushed, glowering into that pitch-black liquid. "I… read up on it."

Lily couldn't help the smile that spread from ear to ear. "What's this? Cooking? Domestic spells? You planning on being a housewife Sev?"

He flushed crimson. "They're basic life skills!"

Lily relented, it wouldn't do to upset him with the teasing. At the very least, however, he was now looking directly at her, albeit, with narrowed eyes. With an unapologetic grin, Lily drew another bite of the honeyed oatmeal to ward away his glare.

Her father however had an opinion in this matter. "Lily, why haven't you learned any domestic spells?"

She couldn't help the sigh that invoked. Same question as what would be asked every time she skipped out on learning to cook alongside her mother. It wasn't the concept of cooking she hated, it was the company in Petunia who would stick by her mother's side like a gossipy sous-chef. She didn't aspire to be a housewife like Petunia did and only thought to learn in her own time. How hard could it be? Her father had already mastered the oven not even a year in to fending for himself.

"Hogwarts doesn't have any class that teaches domestic spells," she answered. "Severus must have read ahead somewhere."

"They don't have home economics?" Her father seemed a little taken aback.

Lily raised an eyebrow. "You think if they did that Sev would take it?"

"I don't even know what that is," Tte sullen boy muttered, taking another scowling sip of coffee.

Her father fixed her with a steely eye. "Well then missy, don't you think you should be reading ahead in these matters? As Severus had said, these are basic life skills."

"Severus can teach me. We have all day today together." She beamed across the table.

However, instead of drawing out any blushing or glowering with her open suggestion and his no doubt still wandering mind, Sev calmly put his coffee mug down and replied. "Actually, no. I need today to make my own arrangements. If I could find enough work to procure my own room and board I won't burden your household any longer."

Lily was aghast. "What? Sev! You're welcome here! Why would you do that?" She hoped it wasn't because of the little stunt she pulled last night. The dark glare she received from him did not put her worries to ease.

"Well I think that's a splendid idea, Severus," her father interjected, causing Lily to glare at him furiously. "And before you say anything, Lily, I'm not trying to make him feel unwelcome. But you need to understand, Lily, that men have their pride. You should never take offence to what a man feels he has to do."

 _Of course, because men are such different creatures._ Lily thought with an eye roll.

"Severus can stay as long as he needs to," her father continued, seemingly not catching that snip of sassiness from his daughter. "So long as he follows some ground rules." He looked at the boy sternly, as both kids lowered their gazes. "If you're going to pursue this course with my daughter, I trust you will do this properly."

"Yes sir," Severus replied, with a solemn nod.

Lily felt the rise of redness in her cheeks, and indignation in her voice. "Do I get a say in this?"

With an upraised eyebrow her father turned an appraising eye to his high-spirited daughter. "And this is why I have to be able to trust Severus. You are a little too rebellious for your own good, Lily."

"I understand sir," Severus quickly agreed, outraging Lily with his submissive brown-nosing attitude. Did he realise he had just agreed to sign off intimacy when he could barely stay too long alone in the same room without boiling over?

"Really? Sev. Really?" She glared pointedly across, to which he responded by flushing crimson, no doubt also thinking on his terrible grapple with his hormones.

Her father sighed, actually looking a little embarrassed, "Lily. I know we never sat you down and had a proper talk about… these kinds of moral expectations. Perhaps… we assumed… well, too much. I didn't even know if magical folks got married." Lily couldn't help the blush that threatened to equal Severus'. "I don't know how far you two kids have gone but I want you to retain respectable distance until such a time as things become official."

"I... agree with your father." Lily stared at Severus aghast, but he did not appear apologetic or disingenuous.

"I can't believe this!" Lily lamented. "The two men in my life, teaming up together to tell me what I'm not allowed to do."

Her father replied sternly, "Your mother wouldn't be on your side on this, Lily. And you know it."

"You're just trying to sucker way into dad's good books," Lily growled uncharitably at her traitorous boyfriend.

Severus glowered back, "What's wrong with not wishing to be disapproved of?"

"Is that what last night was about?"

"What happened last night?" Lily cringed, suddenly realising what she had said. Severus looked mildly horrified as her father stared at the both of them with great disapproval.

"Nothing," Lily quickly amended, too little too late for that damage wrought by her big blathering mouth.

Her father, of course, did not settle on her word. "Severus?"

"Nothing," he muttered, exceedingly galled to have to say this. "I… didn't think it right… to do anything to your daughter under your roof."

Rather than seem angry, her father actually smiled. "That actually puts my mind at ease." He folded his newspaper and slipped it into his briefcase. "Especially since I'll have to leave you kids soon. Alas we muggles have not yet mastered the elimination of travel time to work."

He drained his coffee with one gulp and picked up his last slice of brown toast with a despairing sigh. "I don't suppose you have any spells that can make this appetising, do you?" he asked Lily beseechingly.

"If I did, why would I be eating this?" Lily muttered, still bristling from their conversation.

From across the table, Severus turned one dark brow up at her. "Have you forgotten how to transfigure?"

Lily stuck her tongue out in a rather childish gesture of non-agreeability. "Transfigured food always tastes so bleh."

"Not if you check your Eplat's paradigms. You don't just transfigure the ingredients, you have to transfigure the texture. This doesn't just apply in the context of inanimate to animate."

Lily groaned, "What were you a professor in your past life? Why are you making me study in the holidays?"

With a grunt of disapproval, Sev brought his wand down on Lily's barely nibbled toast. Instantly the colours inverted and white toast sat upon her plate. With a hesitant bite, Lily tested the result, and found a satisfying crunch on top of that satisfying natural sweetness that comes with every chew mingling with that sour sweet tang of marmalade. "Oh my goodness, sweet, sweet carbs. Sev. I'm converted."

"There is no change in carbohydrate content. It still retains the health benefits of the brown bread." He rebuked, weirdly, with almost an educator's tone. "Gamp's third law states a transfigured element cannot take the place of the element its mimicking. That applies to nutrition too."

"Nerd," Lily muttered through another bite of her toast, "but I forgive you if you'd also make my broccoli into something edible."

Severus frowned. "You need to eat your vegetables, Lily. I'm not softening that hurdle for you."

"Oh come on!" Lily threw her hands up to the ceiling. It seemed Severus was intent on vexing her today. "You hold the key to easing my struggles, yet you're not going to heroically step in?"

But that boy stubbornly held his course. "Not everything in life can go your way. Not magic, not vegetables." This was revenge for accidentally spilling the beans, wasn't it?

"I can see you're going to be a very strict father, Severus," her father suddenly interjected into their squabble, causing Lily to choke on her transfigured bread. At the very least Sev seemed equally shocked, sitting there pale and wide-eyed.

Lily conjured herself a glass of water and reigned in her eye-watering spluttering. "Oh dear Merlin! Dad!"

The muggle man returned an unapologetic smile. "So my dear daughter's old enough to consider every other aspect of a relationship except the one that carries responsibility?"

Lily flushed, unable to find a response to that mortifying accusation with any type of eloquence. "We're too young to be talking about kids!"

"Good to know there are things you're still too young for," her father snipped back, thunking his briefcase upon the table and securing the latches. "Now before I go, one last thing." He lifted his brown piece of toast. "If you would be so kind, Severus, I would like a donut."

* * *

It was galling that Snape had to invoke this favour for something so frivolous as saving face in front of Lily and his family, but that living situation was not something he could allow to continue as it were. It wasn't just about sleeping in such close proximity to Lily, or his fears of his own self-control, but the fact that he looked in every way a freeloader to his own eyes. It did not help his unease that Lily had already picked him out a set of bathrobes and a new nightshirt. He was feeling too indebted to keep his head up within this household.

After a few hours in London, it immediately became apparent to Snape that a summer job was not an easy thing to land for a seemingly half-trained wizard. Undergraduates within the job market was not a typical thing among magical folk, especially not in the way it prevailed within the muggle world. He was almost desperate enough to try for a muggle line of work just to get some semblance of control back into his life.

However then that owl returned bearing a letter from Dumbledore, inquiring as to why Snape no longer lived within his own residency. Then he knew; the old wizard had laid wards upon his father's house to keep an eye on him.

It was a stroke of madness to be sure, but Snape wrote back explaining his situation and asked for asylum within Hogwarts walls. Students could be allowed a stay over summer with the headmaster's explicit permission, a possibility never granted to him when he requested it during his early years at Hogwarts. He never knew why Dumbledore denied him asylum repeatedly, but this time he expected the headmaster might finally agree. After all, this time Snape was his golden goose.

Instead however a message arrived in the form of a House Elf bearing a note, interrupting lunch. Lily's eyes grew round at the sight of one, having never been down to the kitchens, or been given the privilege to call upon them.

"Message from Albus Dumbledore," the little elf announced, garbed in that little toga bearing the Hogwarts crest. Snape accepted it with a nod of thanks as the little magical valet blinked away with its silent but powerful form of Apparition.

Arranging his fork neatly back into place, Snape flicked the note open and skimmed the message within and hid the apprehension from his face.

"Well? What's it about?" Lily asked, apparently not even considering the possibility that some messages are private.

Neatly tucking the note away, Snape answered with a semblance of the truth. "Professor Dumbledore may have found me a solution for my summer. This is the portkey that would take me there." The second part at least was not a lie, that little note was a portkey. Snape carefully tucked it into the breast pocket of his muggle jacket.

Lily huffed out a sigh, dipping her spoon back into her cream of chicken and corn. "Why do you want to leave me this badly? Is it because I invaded your room that one time?"

Snape flushed, the memory of her soft body pressed against his was one he did not wish to invoke in company. These kinds of candid conversations with Lily were happening more and more often whenever her father was at work to the point where he was believing this all to be the effect of her rebellious Gryffindor nature.

Before his submission to her father's reasonable concerns, Lily had never mentioned a peep about wishing to indulge in carnal desires, a situation she had since explained to him that she had been hinting at like mad. Snape thought her a little optimistic of his abilities if she thought he'd be able to discern romantic invitations through hints.

But since winning some semblance of approval from Lily's father, he did not wish to do anything that might drop him in esteem. And at the moment it felt as if indulging Lily's contrary Gryffindor attitude was exactly the pitfall he had to avoid.

So, to answer her question, "I think we should put a little more distance between us than just one wall."

She could not be rolling her eyes any harder. "Here I thought we're supposed to get closer as our relationship progressed, not further away."

"I'll be here daily for the potion," Snape mumbled, still unable to meet her eyes.

To Snape this did not feel like drifting further away, this felt like things taking a turn for the serious. It was getting over his disbelief that he had been so lucky as to be granted a chance and his adult mind finally triumphing over his stupid teenage urges to set up respectable guidelines over how he should be taking this. That there was going to be a future involving Lily and her family. A future free of solitude.

It honestly frightened him.

Though he understood the seriousness of her presence in his life, up till now it had always felt part ways surreal. Like a half-indulged fantasy, frequently revisited. But now too many heavy thoughts came to the fore. His finances, his worth, his appearance. His true nature. What he had wrought onto her in another lifetime, and the guilt that he could not shed.

And that wasn't even counting the fact that Lily was still a teenager, something that made the idea of pursuing any sort of a carnal course all the worse. She was at the age of where she would have been one of his students. There were extreme moral implications in the matter, and something only he could hold himself accountable for. This was the closest to being an adult he had felt since this whole fiasco of a time slip began.

This was to be a difficult thing to make Lily understand, so he hadn't tried. He could barely meet her eyes as he neatly folded his potato slices onto his fork.

True to her word, Lily had shaken him down for his domestic spells, applying them all with expert flare within days. This lunch of potato bake, sliced baked luncheon ham and a salad of tossed spinach, tomatoes and rocket had been entirely Lily's efforts, having claimed she was going to showcase the skills she's mastered.

"You're not a terrible cook," Snape complimented, only realising belatedly it wasn't much of a compliment when Lily raised an eyebrow at him. "As in, I like your seasoning. And everything else." He internally sighed. He'd never get used to making small talk. Usually he just glared until the person who was trying to engage him conversationally went away.

A smile worked its way across Lily's lips. "You can be really adorable, you know that?"

Well that wasn't something he'd ever been accused of. "I think we have different definitions of adorable."

"Not in the puppies and kittens way, of course," Lily continued, as she munched lightly on a small bite. "More like if a Boggart decided to give up its day job and try its hand at being human."

Snape frowned, uncertain about the validity of her odd compliment. Probably fair play considering the way he worded his own. "I'm trying to take your comments in the spirit of good humour as I assume it was intended," she answered with a grin, not at all mindful of the spinach garnishing her neat white teeth.

With a quick neat sweep of his utensils, Snape cleaned his plate elegantly, not leaving a morsel upon it to waste. He arranged his utensils in proper meal cessation fashion and dabbed the corners of his mouth neatly. "Thank you for the meal, Lily. I'm afraid I have to go now to keep my appointment with Professor Dumbledore. I apologise for not being able to stay and help with the dishes." Such a formal way to end a meal on. Polite conversation just did not come naturally to him.

A deep heart felt sigh came from Lily's side of the table. "Fine. Go do what you gotta do to feel manly."

That assessment didn't sit well with Snape but he did not pursue it. He could not hold it against Lily to not know what it felt like to live without pride. "I'll be back by tomorrow morning so we can start the potion." And with that he stepped away from the table and the Port Key took him.

But it was not the ground of Hogsmeade he reappeared on. He stood in a small backyard, barely ten feet in length and breadth with a high fence surrounding its perimeter. He could feel an incredibly powerful privacy ward, decades old upon the building before him.

The grass grew long and wild within its territory, overrunning the few structures that had once graced its territory. Snape stepped past what could have once been a bench set along the side of the house, but it had long since surrendered to the grasp of the conquering lawn.

Snape waded through the jungle of grass towards the only door within his view, elevated a foot from the ground with a trail of concrete steps. Indeed, there hadn't even appeared to be another way out of that worrying yard unless he chose to take battle with the boundary wards that were laid upon the gate that wound around the side and its accompanying fence-line. But that spell was but a soft and simple spell compared to the heavy magical aura that permeated from the bricks and mortar of the house it surrounded.

The door to the premises opened upon his approach, revealing a hallway of a dilapidated household on par with the one he had been thrown out of, but oddly it did not smell of such. He walked through an old room with tiled floors, and a sink so old and rusted its function looked unknown, into a hallway that split in two and curved around a staircase that lead downwards beneath the floors. Behind it was a stairwell leading up, curving about in a grand looping ostentatious design, but even that was falling to the decay of time. A most peculiar place to have been invited by portkey to. Snape was beginning to doubt if that message was from Dumbledore at all.

But that doubt was stripped away the moment he stepped through the trailing hallway that twisted about a stairwell and spilled into a decaying lounge room. A room that haled straight from his dreams.

Snape stared at the wallpaper, once glowing in warm pastels, now cracked and peeling and discoloured beyond recognition. The white upholstering upon the sofas laid moth eaten and threadbare upon its frame. Age wore upon every surface of the room, but otherwise unchanged from the memory he held. It was as if this household had not been lived in since the tragedy that unfolded within this very room.

But even with that thought, another odd one occurred to him. Everything was exceedingly clean and free from dust considering the decades that must have passed. That question was however answered by the very man this property belonged to, reclining comfortably within one of those ancient armchairs.

"Ah Severus. I am certainly glad the grasslands in the yard have not clamed you as their own," a smiling Dumbledore greeted with a gestured invitation to sit. Snape acquiesced and perched cautiously upon the fragile upholstering. These chairs, while old, were by no means as horrid as those within his own household.

"Welcome to my home," Dumbledore continued with a wan smile. "Alas it has fallen a bit into disrepair, for you see, nobody has lived within these walls for over fifty years."

"I gathered from the state of things," Snape replied with a curl of his lips.

The elder wizard did not seem at the least offended by Snape's less than warm demeanour. "I understand you have some problems with your household, Severus. And I am sorry I had not noticed in the years leading to this. I had denied your requests to stay on in the years previous, had I not?"

"I stopped asking by my fourth year," Snape muttered darkly. By that time school had become as much of a hell as home had been.

With a solemn tip of his head, Dumbledore continued, "I have my reasons for never approving student requests to stay over that summer break, Severus. I am sorry for the difficult situation it had put you in." His reasons had been owing to the fear of isolating another youth from the world as the Dark Lord once had. If a child lived all year round within these great stone walls, they would not feel the movement of the world outside as the empathy withered within their hearts. A canary living within a cage would believe the world ended upon the borders of its view, as was the philosophy behind the headmaster's refusal of stays.

But in the case of a child returning to a world of pain and sorrow, that sweeping view of the bigger picture was a bitter dose.

"Did you simply not notice?" Snape asked, lips curling with distaste.

Dumbledore looked away, as if ashamed. "I admit, Severus. This is one of my failings. I do not see all. I cannot see all. And I cannot know if you did not tell me."

"The rags I wear should have been the clue, Dumbledore," Snape growled. "My demeanour should have been a clue. My inability to function socially should have been a clue. You do not ask a child to confess this situation to you."

Dumbledore tipped his head in acknowledgement, as contrite as he had ever seen this man. Snape was holding a fault against him he had known to be the case for years. The wizarding world was a tight knit community of some extremely private families and many exceedingly open ones, but all in all, a small community at that. With low population came a low incidence of derivation from the norm, and thus this school of the magical community had always been under prepared to deal with the disenfranchised. It wasn't that the teachers did not care; the likes of McGonagall and Sprout would be up in arms over one of their charges coming to harm, but they were never trained to understand the signs. Unequipped to deal with this battle beneath their very noses.

Unbidden, the memory of another boy came to Snape's mind. A boy whose neglect had also slipped past the headmaster's radar. The golden boy, a child Snape had hated but vowed to protect, was left sixteen years under the tender mercies of Petunia. A situation Snape had already known would not have been pleasant, but until he had been given permission to freely invade the boy's mind, he had not known the full extent of the harpy's hateful ways.

He admitted that the spiteful part of him had purposefully avoided mentioning his suspicions to the headmaster, reaping vicious satisfaction from the idea that Potter's son was suffering a taste of what Snape's own childhood had been like. But after that peek into that familiar desolation, Snape surrendered to his conscience and finally informed the headmaster of what he had known to have been the situation for years.

That had been the year the headmaster finally graced the Dursley household and personally reprimanded them for their conduct. A small token to be sure, but likely resounding with leaps and bounds in the heart and mind of the neglected child.

Few could understand the feeling, but Snape was always one of the privileged few.

"I cannot apologise to you enough for the situation you found yourself in," Dumbledore offered with a crease upon his long bushy brow. "I cannot make up for what had happened and I understand the battle had not become easier with age. But even though this is the case, I cannot grant you permission to stay in the school over the summer period."

"Paperwork that taxing?" Snape sniped uncharitably.

Still the headmaster appeared unaffected by his unbridled words. "More like, suspicious, if you will, that I have granted this request suddenly after many years of refusal. I believe it would turn more than a few heads among the Governors, a news that I do believe might very well reach the ears of your old friend Lucius."

Snape's scowl receded, realising this was exactly the case. It was short sighted of him to forget the situation he was in. What was it about summer that made him lose perspective?

"Can I perhaps, offer you an alternative?" the headmaster continued, causing Snape to glance up with his brows drawn in cautious hope. With a flourishing gesture, Dumbledore drew his hands open and indicated the space about him. "Nobody has lived here for decades so everything is rather un-home-like, however I believe with a little effort the elves could make it, if not comfortable, then liveable. They have already done an admirable job with only the past two hours."

An offer to live in the headmaster's own home, a capsule locked in time and a sea of regrets. A house the man owned but could never found it in himself to live in. It explained much in the way as to why the headmaster chose to live in the school over every minor break when any of the head teachers could have managed the role as carers for the holiday stays.

It would fulfil the role Severus had frivolously requested, one he was ready to accept. Except one issue. "If you are trying to avoid suspicion, would my presence in your decades-vacated household not raise questions?"

A smile touched upon the old man's face. "It would be so, had it not been for the enchantments worked into the foundations of the household. For you see my mother, Kendra, had wished to make very certain the goings on within this household be kept secret. There was reason for this, but I do not wish to go into it. Just know, if you do not leave by the front door, nobody would know you're here. No sound, or motion, light or magic would seep through these wards."

 _Well that is a rather overbearing privacy ward._ Snape thought, and coming from an exceedingly private man at that. But if the reason for this privacy was in any way as heinous as the visions he had seen within these very walls then he did not want to know any more details.

"The lawn must be left untended, I'm afraid." Dumbledore continued. "The privacy wards do not extend across the yard so there is no way to hide that indication of habitation. If I'm correct, Bathilda is still my neighbour, and she can be terribly interested in what goes on beyond her fence line, bless her soul."

"I would very much like to stay here," said Snape as he dipped his head, satisfied with the limitations that would be imposed on him during his stay. Ordinarily he would rebuke charity at every insulting offer, but this time he requested it himself. If he should debase himself to his own lacking, then let it be Dumbledore, not Lily, to be inconvenienced.

Dumbledore nodded, a wry smile upon his face. "Then I shall send the elves around again tomorrow to finish cleaning the rest of the house. Only the bedroom has been restored to a liveable condition, the room you are likely in need of the most. I will arrange for some groceries to be sent down weekly, I assume you know how to prepare for yourself."

"I have done so for many years," Snape muttered, and forced himself to add. "Thank you." Because he was thankful, that Dumbledore had gone so far as to offer his own house to shelter him. A request made not out of complete necessity owing to the kindness of the Evans, but a request granted non-the-less by Dumbledore, to save Snape some face among the family he wished to court.

A smile touched the headmaster's eyes, perhaps sensing how rare it was to be thanked by the boy who once would have become his fellow Professor. He made to stand, drawing this matter to a settled finality before he paused as if a sudden thought struck him.

"One last thing before I leave. I have a request to make." The headmaster settled back into his armchair. "As I'm certain you would know, during this time every year I appoint a Head Boy and a Head Girl to lead the student body for the coming year." Snape's eyes narrowed, not liking where this was going one bit. "I cannot think of a better appointment for the position of Head Boy than you."

"Absolutely not!" Snape growled, aghast at the very thought. He did not need more scrutiny from his peers.

"But you have said it yourself, Severus. Slytherins are not evil. It is time they had someone to carry that banner for them."

Snape was not converted. "I have enough on my plate without needing to revert to babysitting these damnable children!"

A twinkle touched Dumbledore's blue eyes. "Perhaps, but you have proven to me today something I had not realised even through months of witnessing your memories. No matter how poorly a professor you had been, you were exactly what the children of your House needed. You can see things that we, the other teachers, shamefully miss. I have hope that this time you could be there for the children of the entire school."

Snape's lips curled with distaste, hating everything about this mandate, this responsibility he did not ask for and did not desire. "If you are hoping for my blessing then you are truly delusional. I will do as you ask, but do not think you are doing me or anyone else any favours."

"Oh, quite the opposite really. After all, you are fighting this war already from most important of fronts. To deny the dark lord a generation of reinforcements," the headmaster continued with a smile, another victory under his belt. "If you are to continue to be the voice of reformation within Slytherin then you will need some tools to go along with your mandate. You have done admirably with the politics so far, but I believe you might eventually need to wield a little power."

Snape dipped his head in acknowledgement, bitterly resentful of this directive. There would be no escape from those judging eyes that looked upon him with disdain, or escape from that mocking laughter that seemed to follow him wherever he goes, which ever lifetime it may be.

But if there was a chance to carve a clear path for the children of Slytherin out of the darkness of their parents, then perhaps. Snape was always meant to fight these wars from positions of great distaste; as a spy, a professor and a headmaster. Head Boy was but another hateful mask to wear upon his endless charade of a life.

* * *

A/N: Some subtle sexism in this chapter. Ah the 70s. Good times.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 21st April 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 32: Gaining a Family**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	32. Gaining a Family

**Chapter 32: Gaining a Family**

Snape tried his best to ignore the staring eyes as he strode towards the prefect's carriage, his Head Boy badge pinned upon the breast of his ragged robes. He felt so foolish with this shining clasp of illusionary authority upon him. Behind him, he pulled his luggage along, not intending to return to the rest of the student body after his duties are seen to. If he must act as a blasted Head Boy, then he'll damn well take advantage of the private carriage.

At least he had his school supplies back, he could thank his small mercies. He could not even begin to imagine how he would go about replacing his robes, let alone his alchemy kit. All he had to do was mount a covert mission upon his father's household, undertaken on a Tuesday afternoon, the day his father got his pension. If that drunkard was not out for his debaucherous reasons, then he was unconscious upon the lounge. It was honestly the easiest covert mission he had ever had to execute. It was unlikely that fool of a muggle knew even now that anything was amiss.

The carriage lurched suddenly beneath his feet as the train pulled out of the station, a jolt he had been prepared for and subsequently resisted tumbling like a lurching fool. The steady rattle of the locomotive thrummed within the carriage as the Hogwarts Express began its eight hour journey towards the Scottish highlands.

Snape trudged through the irritatingly cluttered hallway, glowering two excited second years out of his path and into their compartments. Already he could see those wide eyes staring out at him from behind those closed windowed doors. He weathered the stares he was getting with as much dignity as he could manage.

Upon the approach to the carriage, Snape could hear Lily's voice rise above the humdrum of rattling wheels. She had been appointed Head Girl, as was her destined role. Some things did not change through either lifetime. Lily was as extraordinary as she had been the first time through this course.

Snape hesitated by the door, suddenly struck with unease as to how Lily would perceive his appointment. He had spent nearly every day with her company during the course of the holidays, barring a week where she travelled up to Glasgow to spend some time with the McKinnon family. Just three days before they were set to leave, Lily had intercepted him almost immediately out of his apparition to give him the news, wearing that badge upon her muggle garb proudly. Snape should have taken that opportunity to reveal his own appointment to her then, but he didn't. It was as if he thought he could avoid reality if he simply did not voice it.

Joke's on him. Reality remained persistent.

With a sigh, Snape laid his hand upon the panel, and waited for Lily to finish her sentence. He was already late, it would be doubly obnoxious of him to interrupt her. When the lull finally came, he committed to his decision. Unable to avoid this any longer, he pushed the door open and stepped into the spacious compartment, turning every head within.

"Sev." Lily's eyes grew round as concern touched her brow. "What happened?" Did she think he came here to report an incident? If so the confusion did not last long as her eyes drew downwards to the small shiny button pinned upon his robe front. "You?"

Snape internally sighed, trying not to be too insulted by her surprise. "Believe me, it was not voluntary."

"Severus. Why didn't you tell me?" Lily glided over to him and straight into his personal space. There was no mindfulness of his comfort around public spaces any longer, the holidays together had taken that consideration away. "I was blowing a lid over the wait to see who my fellow student leader is. I half feared it might be one of the Marauders owing to the tardiness."

Snape's lips curled. Lily had no idea how close she scraped to having James Potter as her lazy second. During his lifetime, Potter had been the appointed Head Boy, but everyone knew Lily was the one to that got anything done. At least Snape would pull his weight, no matter how reluctantly his assimilation into the role was. And he was, at the least, somewhat thankful to avert the prospect of proximity to Potter.

He could see the prefects that lined the carriage, turning their frowns upon him. A Head Boy appointee that had not raised through the ranks of Prefectship was rare, and that made him twice the anomaly. At the very least they had not yet turned to outright hostility, some even appeared quite delighted by his appointment. The two newly appointed Slytherin Prefects were positively beaming. It appeared Lincon Rawkas' efforts had been noted, for Snape did not remember him bearing that prefect badge in his previous lifetime.

Contrary, however, to their younger counterparts, most of the older prefects of his household seemed far less enthused about his appointment. Evan Rosier could barely meet his eyes as he hung towards the back of the carriage, while Regulus Black met his eyes with a calm boredom but tangibly bristled with agitation. It appeared the holidays had not seen the darkness soften its grasp upon the pureblood circles, invoking a touch of concern over how Mulciber had fared. It would be a major step backwards for Snape to lose the support of his biggest face of the reform.

Surprisingly, the Gryffindors were far less hostile, even positively encouraging compared to the withering glares he was getting from the Ravenclaws. He was receiving smiles and nods of approval from the self-righteous cubs, even a friendly wave from that loathsome werewolf, who looked almost healthy for four days after a moon. The Hufflepuffs reacted the most mildly, taking this surprise in stride as they did with most matters.

"Well since you're here now, we can get our meeting under way," Lily exclaimed with an excited clap. She was always going to react one of two ways, Snape was glad it was not with anger. "We first welcome the new prefects to our fold. Please introduce yourselves."

Put on the spot, the young Ravenclaws she pointed to seemed to shrink from the attention. "Patricia Erin," the dark-haired girl introduced herself as. "Bartemius Crouch… Junior," the nervous boy with straw-blond hair mumbled.

Snape's eyes narrowed upon the boy, finally noticing him. The unassuming boy did not stick out among a crowd, even to someone who would have otherwise known him as a familiar face. A shy and reclusive nature was effective camouflage Snape had found over the years of his childhood, except against those that sought him out purposefully and maliciously.

It was difficult to imagine that this boy was destined to fall as he had, and even more so to believe that the entirety of the second war had arisen upon his actions. Snape had never questioned how this boy's motivations had arisen before but the environment of Ravenclaw was not one of the proving grounds of future Death Eaters. Where had things gone so wrong for the boy?

"Lincon Rawkas. Not going to be a Death Eater." came the announcing voice of that newly appointed, and known ally of Snape's cohort. "Priya Sai. Also not to be a Death Eater," Snape's head whipped around to raise his eyebrow to the Slytherin girl that had once sought his assistance against the assault upon her mixed-house collection of friends, only just noticing her as well. Another appointment made politically perhaps? He could not remember if she had been a prefect. Either way the new generation of student leaders within the House of the Snake were those with ideals aligning with the light. A very obvious ploy to garner a stake in Snape's eyes, but perhaps the only way to proceed. Inspiration was the Gryffindor's tool but the children of Slytherin were not yet so cynical to be immune.

"Welcome, student leaders. My name is Lily Evans, your Head Girl for this year," Lily continued, making Snape realised he had missed half the names of the new prefect appointees. Even though Snape struggled to care, he knew he had to make it his business later to memorise their names. Even as a professor, he never forgot his student's names, not until they left his sphere of influence. "For those of you who don't know me, I take a far less strict approach to managing student life than my predecessor had." A few snickers arose from the older prefects. "And hope this year for us to focus on actual issues, rather than minutiae." She then turned her wide green eyes upon the boy standing silently beside her, seemingly expectant.

Already the torment has begun. "I am Severus Snape. And you don't have to know anything about me to do as I say."

Those green eyes narrowed as nearly everyone else in the room took a step backwards, both mentally and physically. "What this prickly bundle of sunshine means to say is, he looks forward to working with you."

Snape scowled as light chuckles erupted within the crowd. To his ears, their amusement reeked of mockery. How he loathed the laughter of children.

"Well then, let's get our patrols organised. For today's train ride, and for the following two weeks." Lily unfurled a length of parchment and pinned it sideways to a board upon the carriage wall, no doubt intended for such a use. "Apologies, I hadn't known everyone's names so I used your titles instead. I colour coded it for ease of use," she chirped brightly, indicating the bright green, red, blue and yellow spots that each held a number within, no doubt representing year group. Upon it however, was an uncoloured circle titled 'HB' that was paired with a red dot titled 'HG', covering one of the evening time patrols together. That definitely eased his burden marginally, he feared he was to be paired with one that would grate on his nerves, and chances are, that could very well be most of them. "

With quick applications of the copying charm, the prefects filed out of the compartment with schedules in hand, intent on joining their friends or setting about their duties.

A sigh issued from Lily's lips as she turned to her miserable boyfriend. "You could at least try to look less held against your will."

Snape scowled as he pushed his luggage into a nook in the corner. Even with such space he could not bring himself to succumb to luxurious waste. "I could also try to look more like a porcupine. Doesn't make it true."

"But neither would be an unwelcome attempt," Lily retorted, a smile twitching on the corners of her lips. If it seemed like she might get angry, the best course of action to take was attempt to make her laugh. A technique Snape developed and deployed with positive results throughout the holiday period. He didn't think his sense of humour had ever gotten such an airing. "Honestly I'm just thankful that it wasn't one of my fellow prefects that got the promotion. I'd have to rearrange all of my patrol plans."

At the very least there was never any risk of that happening with either incarnations of his life. "I had noticed the near future does not look completely awful. I notice you had planned to patrol with me later this evening."

Lily rolled her eyes with a relenting smile. "That was intended to get to know my new counterpart, not as a date."

"Believe me. The corridors between narrow compartments housing that debacle of head splitting noise pollution would not be what I would call romantic."

"Why Severus. I do believe I would like to get acquainted with definitions of that word." She pressed a hand upon his chest as she closed the gap between them. "And I do like how authority looks on you," she murmured with a light tap upon his crisp polished badge.

Snape's brow twitched upwards, getting all too familiar with these flirtatious remarks. Little probing motions whenever they are alone; an all too dominant cynical part of him believes she was enjoying herself, flouting his inability to act, taking some perverse pleasure in seeing him so worked up but unable to do anything to alleviate the feeling. While that tiny spark of romanticism teased the idea that she might actually find him in some way desirable, that she might actually want to escalate things. A very tiny spark, however. Thankfully she restricted her antics to private moments, he didn't want to think too hard about what would happen when her inhibition left her in public.

But none of that helped the immediate rush of warmth throughout his body. A reaction she was all too aware she was invoking. There was just something all too devious about the way she smirked, as if she enjoyed the sight of his humiliating struggles. A battle he could never win because he knew not of any counter measures to take.

With a reddened surrender to her seductive motions, he relented to give her a soft affectionate kiss, causing her to giggle, a thrill of excitement in her bared smile. "Imagine if someone walked in. Head Boy and Head Girl, caught implicit in inappropriate conduct in the prefect's carriage. How scandalous."

"It was only a kiss," Snape muttered, flushing redder with the imaginings her words conjured, but knowing all too well that had he been a professor, this would have been all it took for him to yank the pair apart and dock points.

"Oof. Only," she teased. "Still staying strong under the tyrant's mandate."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "For the foreseeable future."

That little devious sparkle was in her eyes again as she draped her arms around his shoulders. "All eyes on the future then." She winked, causing another rush of heat through his body.

"Lily," he growled warningly. She was doing this on purpose.

"So when's our wedding then?" she pushed with a giggle.

He could not help that rush of red to his face, accompanying the aversion of his gaze. It took a moment for her grin to falter, the weight of the words she haphazardly threw out there finally hitting her as well. Gryffindors, always taking things one step too far.

She didn't apologise, nor did she play her words off as a joke. Instead she simply stepped close and reached upwards, laying a soft kiss upon his cheek. "I'll see you this evening, Sev," she murmured as he turned back to her, barely able to meet her eyes. Her smile was soft as was the redness upon her cheeks. Whatever chagrin she felt for uttering those weighty words so thoughtlessly, it did not ride upon her mind as it did his.

It wasn't even the possibility she questioned. While to him the realities of his wealth and worth wore upon his mind. The knowledge that he could not even support himself yet, let alone another. It wasn't a prospect of question for him, it was a question of how he could, and if he should.

* * *

Sorting passed quickly for Lily as she sat at the head of the Gryffindor table. She wasn't as nervous as she thought she'd be, certainly not when she first sat up here as a prefect. She had wondered who the more jittery that day had been, her or that poor first year she tried to shake the hand of but managed to smack himself in the nose instead.

It did not feel too different to being the standard Prefect, except now she was expected to lead. The thought had been quite overwhelming, but now she was walking that walk, it didn't seem too different to what she had already been doing. Perhaps she'll feel differently when the monthly meetings begin. She had never had a try with public speaking before. Perhaps this would be that kick in reality she was still expecting.

At the very least she'll do better than Severus she'd wager. He'd probably tongue tie the moment all those eyes fall upon him and he'll spiral into a glowering silence for the duration of the meeting. She was delighted for him to be awarded this position, it was the very recognition for his efforts she had hoped for since the beginning of all this, but she honestly couldn't think of a worse fit for student body leader.

Even now he was sitting at the head of his table, glowering up and down its length, nodding curtly to every first year sorted into his House and sending them down the table at a scarper. He seemed about as welcoming as the rear end of a fire crab.

When the final newly sorted students seated into their respective houses, the expected feast began to appear along the length of the table, eliciting gasps from the far end. Ah first year. The excitement. The nostalgia.

With her duties over, Lily stood from the end of the table and travelled down to sit with her friends. It was an interesting mix this year, with her girlfriends shifted about enough to seat the Marauders tightly in their midst. It appeared Marlene's relationship with the leader of the four had caused the entire group to migrate up the table so the couple could sit hip to hip. Another privilege Lily could not enjoy with her Severus.

"Hey Lil's! Head Girl huh? It suits you," Marlene called as she shifted over to give her a spot.

Lily slid into that tight squeeze and pulled up a plate. James greeted her from the other side of Marlene with a pearly white smile and a familiar ruffle of his unruly hair. It appeared even with a girlfriend there had been no attempts made to tame that bird nest.

With a grin, Lily slid a pork chop onto her plate with a side of apple sauce and mash. "You should see how good it looks on Sev."

That easy grin disappeared off her best friend's face and was immediately replaced with a dose of sauce. "Remus said something about that. Here I thought he was loopy off his meds."

"How'd ol' grumpy Snape get the role anyway?" James asked. "He doesn't strike me as the type that wants to tangle with student affairs."

"Or as the leadership type," Black interjected with a smirk that didn't seem as malicious as it usually did.

"Oh leave him alone," Lily chastised as she stuffed a white roll on the corner of her plate and began buttering it with a hint of aggression.

Lupin leant over, looking cheerful and healthy. He was doing so well on the potion. "There's more than one kind of leadership, Sirius. Snape is simply not the inspirational type."

"Oh please. Go ahead and explain to me exactly what type he is."

Lily rolled her eyes as she stuck into her meal. This was the downside of their new seating arrangements, being stuck within easy earshot of Black. She turned her attention to the other half of her tablemates, willing to bear any type of inane gossip to drown out Black's voice.

"- so I sent Aunt Minnie a letter asking if she thought the Sorting Hat could work on creatures other than human. I got a reply from Professor Dumbledore instead, encouraging me to visit his office to test my theory."

 _Oh Pandora._ She thought. _Treating the holidays as free study time._

Eager to be part of a conversation that didn't involve disparaging remarks about her boyfriend, Lily leapt in. "So what will you be testing it on?"

"Achilles of course," Pandora answered with an airy grin, no doubt already hypothesising the results within her cluttered head.

"That cat will be sorted into Slytherin, mark my words," Lily grumbled as she sliced her meat into chunky portions, taking the most sizable bite with every condiment stacked upon her fork.

Happily deboning her leg of chicken, Mary remarked. "Speaking of Slytherins. How goes it with Severus?"

"Oh you know. Same, same," she mumbled as she took another bite, hoping to be excused from this conversation. There was a lot she wanted to talk to Mary about, but just not in front of everyone else.

"You must be proud of him," Pandora said with what seemed a genuine smile.

Lily swallowed her bite and returned it. "Of course I am. He's done so much for his House and the school. It was about time someone showed him they appreciate his efforts."

The airy girl seemed momentarily confused. "I think I meant for his works in the alchemical arts."

Lily was similarly confused. "What did he do?"

"He got the gold medal at the Alchemical conference for his contributions to the field," answered Pandora, not seeming at the least concerned about the order in which people received news.

Lily could not help that near comical gasp that issued from her mouth, "He what? Why didn't he tell me? Why do I have to keep getting news second hand with him?!"

Mary gave her a sympathetic smile. "He probably just doesn't like the attention."

"Exact opposite of my boy James," Marlene added with a roll of her eyes.

Rather than look offended, her boyfriend simply grinned, the lamb grease upon his hands the only reason he did not run them through his hair again. "What can I say? I want to share my joys."

"What did he do to deserve it though?" Lily pressed, willing herself to ignore the disturbingly messy make out session that began beside her.

Something Pandora was all too eager to supply. "That one handed transmutation technique, Lily. The one you told me he was developing. You never told me he perfected it! Do you know how revolutionary this is?" She rattled off on technicalities and practical applications to the field of enchantment, in every way more talkative and more excited than Lily had ever seen her. "I had no idea Severus was so amazing Lily!"

"Whoa there, Pandora," Mary quipped with a grin. "Don't forget he's already taken."

Pandora looked momentarily taken aback. "Oh beg your pardon. I meant, I had no idea your boyfriend was so amazing."

Lily could not help the grin that threatened to split her face. The praise was meant for Sev, but she could not help but feel that pride like her own. People were beginning to see the genius in him she's known for years. And she had called dibs first. "Told you he's great." She could not help but gloat.

Marlene came up for air long enough to snide, "Still doesn't help his atrocious looks."

Lily shot her best friend a death glare. "Oh just shove your harpy tongue back down your Captain's throat and leave Sev alone." Lily returned to her plate with gusto, hoping her best friend would get the message and drop the subject.

Thankfully for everyone at the table, Marlene did, returning to her second favourite activity, eating.

Half way through her treacle tart, a hush fell upon the Hall. Lily glanced up at the podium, ready to receive Professor Dumbledore's Start-of-Term Speech.

"Welcome, new students. And for those of you who are not, welcome back. Another enlightening year awaits you within our magical walls." Lily took one last small bite of tart before it gets magically whisked away. Chewing it carefully and slowly so she did not come across too loudly. "Mr Filch, our caretaker has reminded me to tell you that owing to last year's unexpected escape of Bludgers into the Trophy Room, home-brought recreational Quidditch supplies must be confined to the locker rooms at the Quidditch Pitch."

From down the table, James groaned, leaving little doubt where that colourful incident stemmed from.

"We would like to welcome a new member of staff. Professor Motley. Taking up the role of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Alas Professor Leafley had to leave us on short notice, citing personal issues for her sudden departure."

"Who's surprised?" Black muttered darkly. By the sixth year, the revolving door of Defence Professors had become part and call of Hogwarts life. Lily was honestly just thankful it wasn't injury, illness or death that took their last one.

"Class starts tomorrow, and the wonders of learning awaits. Best rest those young minds in anticipation. Off you all pop. To bed with you all."

Lily stood on cue, along with her Gryffindor Prefects. "First years to me!" called Remus, stepping faithfully to Lily's side.

Lily smiled at those wide expecting, excited eyes. This would be their first night at Hogwarts, and for many, their first night spent in the Magical world. Lily could still remember that anticipation, that excitement, and that fear. She could remember casting those nervous glances across the hall at the only friend that had anchored her to this world up to this point, separated by a cruel twist in fate.

She glanced that way now, spotting him gathering his charge in an oddly proficient manner. She had expected him to be glowering his first years into a fright, but oddly he wasn't. He carried himself in an almost soft and approachable manner, a far cry from the unapproachable bristles he had for the young in any other context.

Lily couldn't help her smile, one that Severus did not see as he guided his first years as his duties decreed.

* * *

As it turned out, Lily never found time that night to speak to Mary. Almost immediately an incident occurred within the common room. A first-year welcoming gift, Black had called it. A horrendous mess, Lily corrected. The Marauders thought it hilarious to animate the furniture in the common room to run away and attempt to hide every time someone tried to approach it. The result was an avalanche of wooden limbs wiggling lamely from behind some very bulky curtains.

It took hours for Lily and Remus to set that mess right, refusing to call on McGonagall for help on the first night back. She sure hoped everyone was aptly amused, because she certainly wasn't. By the time she went up to her room, the candles were already doused.

It did not help that she could not remember what she wanted to talk about when she awoke the next morning, missing her opportunity during the two free periods spent in her dorm with Mary. By the time she remembered, the calming muggle girl had left for her Divination class, leaving Lily stewing until Charms class came about. Another place where candid conversations could not be conducted privately.

At the very least she got to spend that hour admiring Severus from afar. Head Boy and young alchemical achiever of the year. And all hers. She could not help the grin upon her face, which upon his noticing elicited surprise and confusion in equal measures, on top of a slight hint of smugness. He sat among his little throng of Slytherin followers as he had the previous year, something that relieved Lily to no end. To know that his efforts of the previous year had not been completely undone by the two months of separation.

It was honestly quite thrilling.

She wondered briefly if he'd welcome a public snogging such as James and Marlene participated in quite readily, but thankfully her sensibilities caught up to her by the end of class at the same time homework did.

"Two feet essay? On the first day?" Marlene groaned aghast as she spread eagle upon the grassy spot by the lake.

"It sucks so much!" James added to her lamentations, the funk of homework prospects sapping any amorous inclinations from the two.

"Suck it up, princesses," Lily retorted. "Nobody said seventh year would be easy. Time to get your noses onto those grinding stones."

Black snorted and rolled his eyes. "Muggle expression I'll bet. No wizard's used a grinding stone for centuries."

"I'll have you know, no muggle has either," Lily returned, feeling that surge of annoyance she always did whenever she exchanged words with Black. Just because Marlene brought James along to their waning summer afternoons by the lake didn't mean the rest of the Marauders were invited. And not even the good part of them too. Remus was off in Arithmancy, along with Sev, leaving her alone among the Marauders and that traitorous adopted Marauder of a best friend. Even when Remus would return, Severus would not, citing Alchemy as his final class of the day. She had a feeling they won't be able to spend too much time recreationally together this year owing to the expected workloads.

She honestly wished Mary and Pandora were more outdoorsy types so Lily could actually have someone she wanted to talk to when James and Marlene got over their homework depression and begin devouring each other's faces again. No offence to Peter though, but he simply wasn't much of a conversationalist. Whatever words they exchange always tended to be rather dull.

"Actually, I'll have you know I've already started reading ahead." James surprised everyone with that declaration. "I'm totally ready for anything McGonagall throws at us, and Muggle Studies is going to be a cakewalk."

"Oh really?" Lily turned to him with an eyebrow raised. "Please, enlighten me."

Seeming more pleased by her challenge than put on the spot, James smarmily replied, "Alright then, first term, muggle biology. They have this really weird genetics make up with has the kids inherit blended traits from both parents. So there's every chance they come out looking nothing like their parents or grandparents."

Lily blinked, momentarily confused. "I don't get it, is that not normal?"

"Oh goodness no," Marlene uttered almost smugly, as if she was pleased to know something Lily did not. "Wizarding kids always inherit one trait or another, so if me and James were to mix we might get a little boy with his hair and my eyes, and his mother's nose but my father's teeth. We always get our family's features in bulk."

That was definitely news to Lily. But the more she thought about it, the more she realised how true it was. How did she never notice before? She's met enough siblings and magical parents to make an observation.

"So what about mixes between wizarding folk and muggle spouses?" Lily asked, now genuinely curious.

Sirius leaned in to supply her with the answer. "Magic blood trumps all. You still get bulk inheritance, even from their muggle side. Seen it with my half-blood cousin, Nymphadora. Looks way like her father. Though can't always tell with the way she shifts her face about. She's a Metamorphmagus you see."

Lily rolled her eyes, not quite believing Black's claims to have such a rare power within his bloodline. Smelled too heavily of braggart hippogriff manure to her.

"Also, Remus looks so much like his father," Peter added with a far more helpful example.

Lily crossed her arms and thought about the possibilities. "So that means there is a chance my red hair and green eyes could be passed down?" Her father had always told her that her features were one in sixteen chance by something he called "Mendelian Principles." That both he and her mother had brown hair and neither had green eyes. He told her this meant she had inherited from them both from the recessive parts of their genes, and that this very easily hidden gene would likely disappear in the next generation of her offspring and only reappear sporadically thereafter. It had kind of saddened her to learn so.

"Well let's say you and I mix." James began, eliciting a wide-eyed glare of disbelief from his girlfriend. "Just hypothetical!" He brought his hands up in defence. "The offspring would have a good solid chance on both features, meaning you could very well wind up with a girl who looked just like you but with my eyes."

Lily nodded, understanding the concept, and feeling frankly a little worm of thrill. "What about with… let's say, a half-blood and a muggle-born?"

Four pairs of eyes turned to her in disbelief, even the usually quite timid Peter's.

"Really? You're thinking about _'mixing'_ with Severus?" Marlene uttered with disgust.

Lily honestly had been just contemplating hypotheticals, but she couldn't help the reactive rise elicited by her best friend's tone. "What if I am?" And cue those recoils of disgust, this just wasn't sitting well with her at all. "I'll have you know, we're taking things very seriously! Dad's already considering him part of the family." He hadn't really, not officially anyway. But honestly if Sev could sit through a half an hour TV show about a space wizard with a screwdriver for a wand, then he was taking the idea of becoming part of the family really seriously.

Surprisingly, it was James that spoke first, and not with any damning response she was expecting. "Congratulations then, Lily," he said with a genuine smile. "Go forth and do what makes you happy. Godric knows there's not enough of it left in the world."

A strange look passed between James and Marlene. A glance free from sexual tension, almost disturbingly emotionally charged for two such physical people.

"I heard," Sirius muttered, shockingly demure in his tone. "My condolences, Marlene."

"What happened?" Lily gasped, eyes going round. She had spent a week with the McKinnon family during week-long break between potion brews, and everyone had seemed hale and hearty.

With an all too casual shrug, Marlene answered. "Not that you'd know, Lil's. I just lost my two brothers last week. They stumbled upon a Death Eater attack upon a rural muggle village. Got involved, as McKinnons usually do. They say they saved at least an entire muggle family with their sacrifice."

Lily gasped, unable to process the horror those words conjured. James leaned over and draped his arm across Marlene's shoulder. "They were brave, Marley."

"Like proper Gryffindors." she agreed, eyes misting over but refusing to spill. "It's getting nasty out there," she continued, subtly wiping a sleeve across her nose to mop up that little trail of tear-snot that dribbled out and threatened to give her feelings away.

"Those Death Eater scum will pay!" Sirius snarled passionately. "Every last one of those shit-eating Slytherins!"

Peter piped up, "They're not all Slytherin." He supplied surprisingly reasonably, "I heard from my mother that my Aunt Enid joined their ranks… and she had been Gryffindor."

A ripple of tangible disgust passed through the little pride of lions, causing Peter to shrink, looking like he very much regretted volunteering that piece of information. But a big comforting hand landed solidly upon the small boy's shoulders, almost knocking him over with that show of solidarity. "We're more than our family, Wormtail," Sirius told him solemnly. With a watery grin, Peter looked up gratefully at the boy.

"Too right," James nodded with a grin. "We're Gryffindors, true and proper. And like Gryffindors we'll fight the hero's fight. Come graduation, let's all join the war!"

With a whoop, both Marlene and Sirius thumped James on the back, no doubts upon their faces. Peter, however, could not look more petrified. Lily had always wondered if that boy only became friends with the Marauders because there were only four Gryffindor boys in their dorm room and James didn't want him to feel left out.

With a sympathetic smile to the frightened boy, Lily added her voice to those steadfast hollers. This war was one waged by extremists upon people like Lily and her family, a war her friends were all too willing to answer. There was never any doubt that this war would be Lily's war too.

* * *

With a tap of his wand, the small nugget of silver responded with a soft perfuse of light, ringing soft and clear as a bell. "Pure," Snape declared with some small satisfaction.

From beyond the mirror, his ancient professor smiled. "What a splendid result. From your first silver focus stone too. It is supposed to get more difficult with every increase in weight of the element." Flamel clapped his hands with delight at the small nugget of silver upon Snape's runic table. A very small nugget, transmuted from a far larger block of tin. A most difficult feat to be sure as the atomic weight had not differed that greatly, putting Snape's stone through strenuous test, but one that it accomplished well, if not perfectly.

And it had to be, considering how expensive it was to form that focus stone. It required one fleck of silver to be its nucleus, effectively drying up Snape's entire supply of that precious metal with one attempt. He spent most of his free time over the holidays researching the method behind that stone so that his attempt would be made without waste.

He was beginning to understand what constitutes a good result in the craft, and a small yield of noble metal from a large chunk of low-differential reagent was positively singing praise. He had well and truly replaced the fleck of silver he had to use, providing himself with more than enough material to create several more focus stones if he so chose to. As a perfectionist, he would not deny that desire.

"So, what memory did you use?" Flamel inquired as he leaned forward in his plush armchair.

Snape couldn't help the tinge of red upon his face. "None of your business," he snapped. He honestly could have been more polite about it, but inquiries into private matters always invoked an almost involuntary brusqueness from him.

Add the fact that the memory associated with silver had been "A moment of purity." Riddles upon riddles with this subject, and a wholly embarrassing exercise in recollection if ever there was one. There was no need for anyone to know the hours Snape had wasted on thoughts of distraction, the very thoughts he did not need aggressively intruding upon his mind. It appeared when the requirement was "purity" all his mind conjured was filth. As contrary as any Gryffindor. He was certain in his older age there was far more discipline in his teenaged thoughts, but having experienced it all again he very much doubted the validity of his own superiority over the average teenaged boy.

The memory he finally settled on had been purposefully selected to be the exact opposite to the mire of filth his mind had seemed to seep in, perhaps the only noble choice he had made in regards to Lily in any vocation of his life. The decision to not defile her with his touch.

Her father had dictated that he not dally with his daughter until marriage, as he expected the man to. The seventies was still very much a time where certain expectations were had in regards to relationships. The stigma of premarital relations had more or less faded by the nineties, though expectation had never really depreciated from parental perspective through the eons of time. The wish to protect their children from relationships that toyed with their hearts in the cruellest ways, then cast them out into a society that whispered most viciously of every stain upon their perceived morality.

A compromise Snape had all too willingly made. Even though he knew not when any talk of marriage could occur, or if at all. A decision he made against every dark desire bristling within the recesses of his mind, and one that brought him relief in equal measures. For he knew once he made a decision, he could trust himself to see it through.

This internal struggle was not something he wished to share with anyone, least of all his centuries-old, highly respected, alchemical pedagogue.

To Snape's surprise, Professor Flamel did not look the least offended by his rude outburst. "We who work in the realms of memories too often forget to be mindful of the sensitivity of such an exercise. I apologise if my question was too on the nose. I understand the requirements of this particular stone would be rather… close to the heart. I completely understand why it might be considered a private memory to you."

The student dipped his head, grateful for the understanding. Had it been Snape, he would have brooked none of the disrespectful tone of a snapping student. "Just so, sir," he muttered demurely, trying to compromise for his momentary lack of manners. "The memory I had chosen appeared to have worked, so I do not believe I need to discuss it."

"Indeed, you'd likely be able to reproduce these results if you were to repeat your methods," Flamel agreed, "but do you have enough understanding of the relevance of that memory to pass it to another generation of students?"

"I will not be a teacher!" Snape snapped, again. He only had a few trigger buttons and Flamel seemed to be pressing them all today.

With a patient smile, Flamel simply replied, "You will not be a teacher, for now. Not while you are a student, Mr Snape. But you will find very quickly that the number of professionally trained alchemists in the world is very small, perhaps a little more numerous now that you have pioneered a method that has opened the path professionally for so many." He stroked his beard with a gentle smile. "But you'll find that every minted alchemist will have to take a turn to act the progenitor of this ancient complex art. We simply do not have the numbers to refuse this responsibility."

With a glower, Snape lowered his belligerent eyes. "Then if I must explain… I would simply tell them treat the idea of purity literally. To… pick a memory… of abstaining from hedonistic desires." He could not help the red that flushed his face. It was ridiculous to get so flustered over even the mere touch upon the subject.

"Ah." Flamel smiled turned amused. "I see your results stemmed more from luck."

Snape's embarrassed glower receded. "What do you mean?" Was his interpretation of purity not the correct one? It worked did it not?

With threaded fingers, Flamel leaned in with a most understanding smile. "Have you not noticed, that the entire foundation of alchemy has been built upon the three noble metals? Copper, silver and gold."

"And various other elements that can be transmuted," Snape grumbled.

"But everything you have been taught as so far has remained cores of copper, silver or gold."

Snape's brows narrowed as he recalled the reading he had done. The realisation occurring to him that it was true, he had never encountered a single mention in the text of a focus stone created for specifically any other element other than the three noble metals. Was this intentional? "Is it not possible to create focus stones for other elements?" Snape asked harshly, the implications for his mission immediately apparent.

"Oh it is very possible," Flamel supplied. "But the formulas for each, are… shall we say, not exactly clear. That is why I told you experiences are the valued currency of the alchemist, for many have found difficulties achieving the same results by retracing methods others have claimed true. Each must find their own paths upon the world they wish to physically affect. Only the noble metals remain certain, our guiding core in the path of alchemy." Flamel smiled and traced his finger upon the equally ancient runic table he sat before. "As is our three guiding principles in life. Strength, purity, and peace."

"Peace? Is that the secret to gold?" Snape's eyes glinted, his reaction no doubt put Flamel into a far more cautious state of mind.

"Yes, Severus. But I will not tell you the meaning behind that principle." Along with his smile, the ancient alchemist seemed to withdraw. "For a bright young man like you should realise that there is only one Focus Stone ever created for gold, and that is the Philosopher's stone. And there is more responsibilities tied in to that knowledge than just the mere generation of wealth."

Mere wealth, he said. "I understand." Snape bowed his head. "The condition for my education with you had always been to aim my questions away from that particular stone. I will not inquire any further."

The smile returned to the Professor's bearded lips. "I appreciate it." He folded his hands upon his lap and seemed to anchor himself. "The point I was trying to make is though arbitrary, these principles are but a word symbolising the underlying necessities of their respective stones. We say strength for copper, but we mean strength of the heart, or emotions for the anatomically correct concept. Courage, restraint and resilience, passion and zeal for life. They can all be valid. But purity, purity can only be from the soul."

Snape frowned, trying to contextualise Flamel's words to his own attempt.

"You have something in your life that touches your soul, do you not Mr Snape?" Flamel asked with a knowing look in his eye. "Something you are willing to act against your own interests to protect."

It was as if the on switch had flicked within Snape's mind. "Ah. I see," was all that he said, and all that needed to be said.

Flamel simply smiled and sat back within his armchair. Content to trust his brilliant student had understood the meaning without the need for further elaboration. "Then let us continue, Mr Snape."

* * *

The moment Lily approached him at the dinner table, Snape already knew she did not call upon him for prefectural matters that she had pretended to come to him with. The first prefect meeting was not scheduled until next Saturday, purposely done so that both he and Lily could focus on the brew tomorrow. Tonight was the last Wolfsbane free night before that whole song and dance began again.

That was likely the reason Lily called him to slip away with her while dinner was on, whittling away the last hours of pre-curfew together before responsibilities begin piling upon them. Snape knew he would have to spend the time he had left with his Slytherins wisely, to make his mark upon their hearts and minds so that they will not cross paths again in the future with wands drawn.

Tonight might be the last night he and Lily could spend some time frivolously before responsibilities of life drove them into their respective corners. A sentiment that Lily appeared to share from the smile that drew upon her cheeks the moment the doors of the Great Hall closed. Without so much as a how-do-you-do, she pulled him down into a rather sensual kiss, unmindful of the eyes that could be lurking from the gloom-touched hallways that came with the setting of the summer sun.

"Is that how you greet someone you've not seen all day?" Lily chastised his timid response.

"Mmfh." was all Snape managed as she met his lips again, seemingly dangerously enthused by this short separation. "What is the special occasion?" he asked, glowing red, with a calming hand upon her shoulder.

With a grin she took his other hand, tracing little circles upon his palm and causing jolts of metaphorical electricity to shoot up his arm. "Oh, you know. Celebrating the fact that you're brilliant."

Alright, nothing is clarified. "I… appreciate it?" He muttered, still absolutely befuddled.

With a roll of her eyes and a toss of her hair, Lily finally elaborated. "I just found out you were awarded the Gold Medal at the Alchemical conference! You! An alchemical student with only one year of education in the craft to boast of!"

"Oh that," Snape nodded, far more reassured now that he was grounded with the knowledge of why this was happening. "It's not actually made of real gold." He clarified lamely to Lily's grinning exasperation.

"Not the point, Sev. On top of being named Head Boy this year. Have I ever told you how much I love it when you're brilliant?"

No she had not. "This is good to know." He nodded solemnly, filing this information away for future reference.

"I don't know why I always have to learn of these things second-hand, Sev," she appealed with those wide, dazzling eyes.

He averted his eyes in the proper look of contrition. "I apologise. I had thought you'd likely have tired of boasting considering the company you keep." A non-too-subtle jab at his defeated rival and previous suitor. He wondered if he did not seem too petty with the venom of his words.

But Lily did not seem at all bothered by his remarks. She took his hand between both of hers with a gentle tug. "Hang out with me tonight, alright?"

"Nothing would give me more pleasure." Snape dipped his head with a muted smile and allowed her to take his hand and lead him up the stairs.

She never released her grasp upon him as they ascended, her slender fingers entwining with his. A warming tingle creeping up his body that he resisted with calming resolution. He followed her quietly as she lead him up to the seventh floor, momentarily worried she was going to lead him straight into the Gryffindor Common Room, but thankful she turned away at that thrice cursed corridor. They stopped only when they reached that stretch of blank wall. The Gryffindor party room, as he knew it as.

"James told me he learned about this room from the House Elves in the kitchen," Lily muttered as she stared hard at that stretch of wall. "The Room of Requirements, they called it, because it will give you what you require. Completely hidden from the eyes of the average wanderer of the hallways. Unplottable on any map."

Snape stared hard at the space before him, within his mind several mysteries within his previous life had just been answered. "Did he also tell you how it works?" He asked as he disengaged their fingers so he could run them down the smooth hewn stones of the wall.

"Of course," Lily grinned. "I've been waiting all holidays to try this." She begun to pace up and down, eyes screwed shut in forceful concentration. Snape eyed her path warily, readying himself to catch her if she tripped.

But thankfully her lack of care did not undo her as she froze and spun about to face him with triumph in her eyes. Snape turned warily back to that expanse of wall, only to find a door facing him instead of that stonework.

With a frown, he reached out and traced his fingers along the contours of these great heavy doors, feeling the tangible warmth of wood in the place of the stone it had been. "So it reacts to what is within the mind," Snape murmured to himself, trying to internalise the new concept of a doorway with an aptitude in Legilimency.

"Come on! Let's explore!" Lily urged with an excited grin, far less interested with the academia of such a discovery. With a push upon those doors, flinging them open with an excited flourish. Only to be met with what could be the magical equivalent of the lounge room of her own home.

Lily drew silent as Snape stepped past, allowing the doors to swing shut behind them. It did not disappear as he feared it would, but that fear had only been a small one. He did not have any issues leaving that peace forsaken party and he was quite certain had the door disappeared he would be able to figure out how to have it reappear.

"I must admit, this is quite a fascinating facility," Snape mused as he settled to observe. He ran his fingers down the smooth polished wood of the mantel piece, interested by how his finger came away without a smudge of dust. Was this room maintained by the House Elves? If so, how many variations of this room were there and were they required to maintain all of them?

There was a small but fancy crystal chandelier hanging overhead, lit candles studding each holder, scattering a soft light about the room in little dancing spots. How long had those candles been left lit for? Because those candle stubs looked quite fresh from Snape's angle.

Light poured through a polished glass-paned window, the setting sun tinging the room with a golden aura. Little sunbeams played across the plush white seats that was arranged across a soft red rug with guests in mind. A polished ebony coffee table stretched the length between those seats, painting a picture of an afternoon spent with company over leisure.

Where the television had been within her house was now a bookshelf filled with leather bound tomes. Snape ran his fingers across the spines, observing Beedle the Bard among the titles. A children's book that he had never been read to as a child, indeed he had not read a single chapter until he had well and truly been an adult. An exercise done, not for his own benefit, but to the young Draco, on a visit to the Malfoys so long ago.

A bookshelf with children's books within a warm home designed for a non-muggle family. It brought up some questions about the request that lead to this.

"What did you ask for?" Snape asked as he turned his eyes to Lily, his heart beat speeding up upon the direction of his thoughts.

With a hesitant smile, Lily glanced about the room she had conjured, looking as abashed as he ever seen her. "Umm… I asked for a place… for us."

"Specifically this?" he asked, but doubted it from her sheepish expression alone.

"No, I just asked for a place." She twirled a hair about her fingers. "I didn't specify what, or where. I half expected that little alcove we had. Something simple. Not-" She gestured about the room wildly. "This…" With arms still raised she stepped past him to the windows that spilt forth that golden light, casting her shadow starkly across the warm room. "A family home. Was that what I meant?"

Snape strode over to her and laid his hands upon her shoulders, sliding it down and across her form when she did not react and enveloping her in an embrace from behind. Beyond the window lay the Hogwarts grounds, painted gold by the setting sun. The rays skipped off the calm waters of the great lake, rendering the expanse that sprawled below them into a beauteous painted impression.

A low chuckle issued from Lily's lips, "You must think me silly for thinking about this already."

With a soft kiss to her fiery red hair, Snape murmured, "Never." He felt her hands trail across his entwined arms. He wished for this too, with all his heart. He felt the touch of longing. This life he had once been denied, a future that he was still uncertain he could achieve.

His hands tightened about her, a tension she seemed to have noticed. "Too early to talk about it?" she asked with a hint of laughter. "I suppose it is. We've only been seeing each other for… geez it hasn't even been a year yet," she glanced up at him, her lips so close to his, "but… we have known each other for eight years." He felt her breath, so hot upon his lips, stirring him in ways he had promised he would not.

"It is too early," he murmured with a soft kiss to her cheek, laid chastely.

Lily smiled, the kind that caused her green eyes to sparkle mischievously. "And yet it wasn't too early for other things merely three months into this affair."

Snape flushed. "Will you just let that go?"

"Never!" Lily hooted, turning in Snape's grasp so she could loop her arms about him, trapping him in an embrace he had no desire to escape from.

Snape laid his chin upon the top of Lily's head, watching the sun hover lazily over the crest of the horizon, casting long dark shadows before it. He breathed deeply, taking in the soft sweet scent of her deep crimson hair, feeling the rise and fall of her own rhythmic breathing. Feeling her pressed against him, beautiful, in love and alive.

He wanted this future with her. He wanted it so badly that it pained him. But reality was far crueller, and never far from his mind.

"This… home. I could not afford anything like this," he murmured, feeling her move from the nook of his neck. Snape averted his eyes from that bright green pair that stared up at him. "Not just this home, I have no means to provide even the most basic of essentials for you." He tried to untangle himself from her arms, but she stubbornly held on. "I can afford no wedding, no ring. Not even the dress robes for your wedding gown. I am not yet… ready… to be your husband."

"I don't need any of those!" Lily's voice rang out loudly, He felt her fingers finding his chin and forcefully turning him to meet her eyes. "I have no doubt about both of our abilities to make a life outside of Hogwarts. But everything else is just… things. I don't need any of those things!"

Black eyes stared searchingly at those green ones, searching them for hesitation. Should he just dip inside for a glimpse, he would find it, he was certain that doubt had to be there.

But those green eyes did not waver, as clear and beautiful as they ever were.

Drawing his wand, Snape untangled himself from her grasp. She softened his grip, somehow sensing that he did not seek to run. With a fluid motion, Snape drew the nugget of silver from his pocket and his wand across its surface. The material twisted and folded into an elegant band.

"There," he barked as he offered her the hastily crafted ring.

A bark of laughter issued from Lily's lips, "Is that how you propose to me?"

With a flush, Snape withdrew his offered hand, clutching the ring as if torn by his actions. With doubt clawing at his throat and fear sapping his limbs, he dropped to one knee, taking a hold of her hand in a gesture he had only ever seen in painted form.

"Marry me," he growled, feeling the creeping loom of inadequacy that threatened to send him scrambling back and recanting his words. "Please."

Without a word, or warning, Lily flung herself about him, clutching him in a tight emotional embrace. He felt his heart flutter, chasing away that darkening doubt, and for a blissful moment his world was clear.

For the first time he felt free of the darkness of his past. A future shone upon his horizon, so bright and hopeful.

A promise of peace at last.

* * *

A/N: They're seventeen. A bit young… Ah well one of them is actually 38, I'm sure he knows what he's doing.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 5th May 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 33: Complexities of Entanglements**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	33. Complexities of Entanglements

**Chapter 33: Complexities of Entanglements**

"I did tell you guys that we were getting serious," Lily said rather proudly as she displayed the silver ring she wore to her two friends, Mary and Marlene. Unadorned and simple, the ring was just a band of silver fashioned to fit her, but she loved it none the less. Give her a few days and she'll be able to fashion it into something more decorative, she's sure of it.

"I don't get it," Marlene frowned as she stared hard at the ring upon Lily's finger.

Did the magical world not have this tradition? "Umm… It means I'm engaged."

The ensuing silence was deafening, before a sudden high pitched "What?" issued from her best friend's throat, startling even that usually unflappable cat and sending it under the bed in a ball of bristles.

Susan was immediately by her side, summoned over immediately by the scent of scintillating gossip. "What? What happened?"

But Marlene didn't answer, her jaw was still unhinged by the horror. Mary however was more than willing to helpfully supply the answer. "Lily's engaged."

Susan was sent into a euphoric gasp as Mary leaned and took Lily's hand, turning it over to fully view the article. "A silver engagement ring?" she asked, her tone almost sceptical.

"Hey. What happened to 'no judgement'?" Lily snipped, taking her hand back. "He made this out of a piece of silver he transmuted. I think it's pretty special."

"I heard about this!" Susan breathed, eyes wide. "My muggle dad apparently tried to propose to my mum by hiding a ring in her cupcake. The misunderstanding took a while to clear up, as well as the trip to St Mungos. It's not a thing in the wizarding world."

Lily grinned, amused by the notion of such a novel difference in perspective. "A magically crafted ring for a magically crafted marriage. A little bit of muggle in our magical lifestyle. I think it's rather poetic."

"Does it have additional magical property?" Susan asked with wide sparkling eyes. To think the only friend to have any sort of enthusiasm on her behalf was that unrepentant gossip queen.

Even Pandora slipped over from her bed on the far end, lured in by the call of an academic query. "The property of alchemical silver is no different from regular silver," she helpfully clarified, having no comments about Lily's turn of a personal life. "The reason that everyone thinks it does is because of charlatans in the Seventeen Hundreds marketed alchemical silver as something created arcanely so therefore very malleable to the wills of an enchanter."

"So, it's just silver?" Susan looked crestfallen.

Lily glared around her circle of non-supportive friends. "I don't care its only silver! It's got more heart than any dumb store-bought trinket."

"Have you thought about enchanting it?" Pandora asked, putting academia before any sort of learned empathy.

Lily frowned. "I thought you said alchemical silver is just silver?"

"I never said silver can't be enchanted." With a heavy thud, Pandora dropped a heavy tome upon Lily's bedside table. "In fact, it could be far more easily enchanted than the standard store bought trinket because of its purity. I'm guessing it's at least ninety percent?"

"Closer to a hundred, actually." Lily splayed her fingers out, allowing her ring to catch the candlelight.

"Oh. You might want to put a little copper into that mix then, otherwise it'll wear away quickly." Lily snatched back her fingers as if the mere act of displaying it was going eat away at her ring. "But before you do, perhaps you might consider enchanting it? Fold the magic into the silver before folding the copper into to harden it. It would certainly make your ring unique."

Lily's eyes grew wide, delighted by that suggestion. "Are you able to do it?" Pandora would certainly be the resident expert in the field.

With distant eyes the girl pondered it for a moment before shaking her head. "I'll need to adapt that newly pioneered alchemical technique to the field of enchantment before I'm able to do it," she answered reasonably. "I am still unable to undertake the traditional method with any form of reliability."

"Are you suggesting _I_ do it?" Lily's brow arched questioningly.

To which Pandora nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes. You are a natural at wandless magic. The traditional method would be the perfect fit. You have read the book I lent you, have you not?"

"Oh yes," Lily confirmed, "but I doubt I could do any of that."

"You understand any of it?"

"I'd like to think I understood most of it."

"Then give it a go. If you mess it up then what's the harm?" Pandora reasoned. "If Severus can already transmute silver then there is plenty of practice to be had."

That idea tickled Lily in all the right ways. "You're right." She grinned, already formulating possibilities, but then her face dropped. "But wait, don't I need a magical core of some sort?"

Wands weren't the only things with a bit of magical creatures within. Many enchanted objects held a minute amount of phoenix down in their core or a had bit of dragon scale ground into their fillings. The reason for this was that enchanted objects were not simply bewitched. These objects held a permanence in their charms work that did not rely upon the caster to maintain. Should the casting be done well, the spell would not wear off with time or the transience of the originator. In order to enchant her ring, a magical core would be needed for the spell to draw from, as well as to lend a little hint of its own flavour to the enchantment. A core from one of the great beasts would be ideal, but highly unaffordable.

"There are cheap enchantment options," said Pandora helpfully, no doubt having researched this extensively. "There are various potion-useful plants that can be treated to exhibit magical emanations of their own, but of course you can only power very minor spells with it… and honestly their magical characteristics are a bit rubbish."

Lily's excitement waned. "That doesn't sound appealing." Maybe, if she asked Professor Kettleburn nicely, she'd be allowed to sweep up some moults from the Hippogriff flock. But that wouldn't do, the feather had to be plucked, didn't it? And Professor Sprout would never let her take a cut from a growing vine from a Venomous Tentacular or the root of a full-grown brawling Mandrake.

"Or," Pandora smiled and looked up at Lily expectantly. All the red headed girl could manage was a blank look back. "Focus stones!"

Lily narrowed her eyes. "Those are way more expensive than any of the above."

The airy girl shook her head with an excited smile. "Not if your boyfriend is an alchemist."

Lily closed her eyes and groaned, "I'm a moron."

"That's okay. You're still good at other stuff," Pandora chirped without a hint of mercy.

It was all so obvious now that it had been said. Focus stones were man-made crystals of pure magical power and could definitely be used as a core. However, unlike those cores harvested from the wild, the use of Focus Stones brought with it an added layer of complications.

The issue with it was that the quality depended on the strength and skill of the alchemist, and the enchanter's ability to adapt their spell to the unique magical imprint of each stone. Apparently, it was powered by memories, and the strength by which the focus stone core could act within an enchantment depended on the types of memories and intentions used to create the focus stone, in conjunction with the type of spell it was binding.

This was why even the best enchanters only ever attempted on Focus Stones from an alchemist they know and trust. Experimenting with stones created upon request, uniquely tailored for specific spells.

Actually, this was beginning to feel overly complicated…

But before Lily and Pandora could discuss this spiralling technical concerns any further, Mary's voice interrupted.

"Lily?" she said in a voice soft with unease, "Lily, can we talk?"

With wide eyes she turned to her usually exceedingly open-minded friend. Even Marlene unstuck her jaw to add, "We have to freakin' talk, Lil's!"

"Why does this sound so ominous?" The crowded girl withdrew a fraction, almost wishing she was under her covers.

Mary begun, hesitantly, "I'm not… I'm not one to question others about choices in their personal life but-"

"What the flippin' hell?!" Marlene exclaimed, eyes wild. "Engaged? To Severus Snape? What?"

"It is quite sudden. And rather soon," Mary added in a far more reasonable tone. "Have you thought this through?"

She knew her friends were just looking out for her, but Lily could not help but bristle. "Too soon for marriage? But not for jumping him behind a classroom?" She retorted to the scandalised gasp of Susan. "Not that I have," Lily quickly amended.

"The difference is the commitment," Mary continued in her gentle voice. "Divorce isn't easy to go through. It isn't made easy by design. There is a huge difference between having a little risqué fun and setting yourself up for a potentially emotionally and financially damaging situation."

The scrutinised girl huffed and muttered darkly, "Why does everyone think it's going to end badly between us? Just once I'd like someone to tell me, 'hey I'll bet you two will be alright.'"

"Because you're too good for him!" Marlene roared, almost making Lily jump with a start. "There, I said it Lil's. You. Are. Too. Good for him! How can you be happy with him Lil's? He's poor, he's hideous, and he's got the personality of Bubotuber pus! Why are you dating him?"

"I love him! That's why!" The red of anger flushed Lily's face, almost indiscernible from embarrassment.

"What is there to love?"

"Let's not let emotions get the better of us," Mary attempted in a reasonable tone as she laid a hand upon the blond girl's shoulder.

"Too late for Lily," Marlene barked as she shook off that reining touch, unable to stop herself from adding fuel to the fire. "She just freakin' dove emotion first into that bit of indecency."

Lily could not help that rush of temper. "Bit rich coming from you, Ms Caught-in-the-Moment!"

Marlene gaped as she changed colour as Mary shrunk into herself in defeat. Susan looked about the three hungrily, thankfully too thick to understand the undertones of the spitting match. Pandora already drifted back to her bed, losing interest the moment they moved off the topic of enchantments.

With a sobbing huff, Lily swung her hands out in a powerful display of emotional magic. Without a verbal command, the curtains swung forcefully closed, sealing her away from judgemental eyes and lashing tongues.

* * *

The Slytherin common room was quiet. Too quiet for youths freshly returned from the spheres of their families' dark influence.

Snape strode silently to his seat by the fireplace, left unchallengingly vacated for him. With the departure of Travers and Wilkes, Snape was officially the apex of this snake pit, but it should not have been this easy. Why was he left untested by these no doubt vacation-emboldened brats?

He had rushed down from the seventh floor for this, cutting his evening with Lily short. The very night he was swept up in a vortex of emotions, proposed to the woman of his heart and was accepted despite his flawed offerings. Just one silver ring upon her delicate finger and a promise for the future. A moment he wished he could simply take time to enjoy, rather than beating about in a reality that apparently had no need for his immediate attention.

He even skipped out of tutorial this night for fear of leaving the Slytherins to their own devices so soon after their return. Dumbledore will understand, this is after all Snape's priority assigned task and it was his prerogative to allocate importance to the issues at hand.

But it appeared his worries were for naught. Not an agitator could be sighted within the calm cool depth of the Slytherin common rooms. Small clusters of Slytherins peppered the room, but not in those overly conspicuous clusters of conspirators that the Death Eater gang had once commanded.

The known associates of this order could be sighted about the room, no longer frequenting their allies with reckless abandon. Rosier and Avery were back in their corner, both with eyes firmly set in their textbooks. Perhaps the workload of this year had the added benefit of occupying the two from mischief. Snape had no illusions that this movement was not still alive within the House, but they were taking great pains to exist below his notice. Had his authority already driven them this deep underground?

Regulus Black still sat amongst the fifth years he associated with, now sixth years, albeit discretely. As Snape had promised, he had not alerted anyone else among their cohort of Black's year mates. Any that knew were those to whom Black had revealed willingly. Snape had hoped to use that boy's known status amongst those still on the dark path as a centre point to map Death Eater influence within the House. He had expected those still loyal to the cause to flock to Black and reveal an obvious pattern of insurrection, simple for a veteran Slytherin like Snape to manage and contain. But it appeared no Death Eater child took to his side.

Snape hoped this was a sign of the group's dying influence, but his realistic and rarely happy mind told him it was more likely they had grown more cunning in their ways to avoid his notice. As Head Boy and known dissident, he was the most obvious threat to the movement making it impossible for him to learn more via the approach of stealth and sleuth. If there were dark talk still about, then Snape will have to rely on the eyes and ears of others now.

This was always the problem with being a symbol, they function badly as spies.

Snape leaned back in his armchair, worry furrowed upon his brow, the calm of his calamitous House wearing at him. If they had learned to be this organised upon such short notice that would be cause for concern. Adult Death Eater tactics inserted into the midst of children.

However, they had no way of knowing that each and every one of their identities had already been well and truly compromised. Snape remembered every Death Eater that emerged from his cohort by name and face. This was his greatest advantage, though one he did not know how well he could rely upon any longer. The power of his actions already had resonating change felt throughout this timeline. The greatest proof of which was approaching him as he brooded.

"Snape," Mulciber greeted as he dropped heavily into the armchair opposite.

"Mulciber," Snape returned, feeling a little vindicated by the presence of his only tangible success.

Beyond all reason, Mulciber had returned from holidays seemingly unaffected. He had at least expected some consternations from the brute, having spent two months under the fold of his father, a known Death Eater of important standing. Some fostering of doubt brought upon by his mired associations.

"So… I was wondering if we could talk," Mulciber began, in a mildly concerning way.

Immediately Snape had thought the worst, despite not detecting any point for consternation when he had sieved through the boy's dull mind. "Speak," Snape commanded, directing his eyes back to the buffoon, glancing upon the surface of the boy's mind.

And immediately wish that he hadn't.

Snape almost groaned aloud before the boy had even finished voicing his question. "Can you give me some advice on girls?"

"What a miraculous leap of logic that led you to believe that _I_ hold the answers you seek," Snape scathed.

"Well you got a girl, didn't you?" Mulciber shot back, still confident in his line of logic. "And a pretty one too so obviously you got some kind of secret." So this is why the boy didn't have any Death Eater concerns at the forefront of his mind. His hormones had his priorities in haywire.

"There is nothing I wish to say on the matter," Snape barked.

Mulciber was not letting up. "Don't be stingy. Come on." Unfortunately the Slytherin boy was not an exemplar of the prided discretion of his House. His bellow of a voice carried far across the common room, turning heads from every direction.

Snape closed his eyes and slowly counted to ten, willing himself not to throw a fit and storm off. But when he opened it again, he was met with the staring eyes of almost every Slytherin in the room. Even the little clusters of girls that dotted about the common room stared, but with far more unkind amusement. Words could not describe the embarrassment.

For one reason or another Urquart had decided to take this into his usually narrow scope of notice. He drifted over from his corner of brooding and leaned casually by the mantelpiece, though from the smirk upon his face he was far more interested in entertainment than receiving any pearls of wisdom from the train wreck of a human being. "Please. Do regale us with your tales of conquest."

"There is no tale!" Snape hissed, glaring withering holes into this unexpected troublemaker.

Surprisingly, Urquart did not pursue this humiliating line of talk any further and turned his withering remarks upon Mulciber. "Anything he could tell you about Gryffindor women probably won't help you anyway. Snape's known his girl since before Hogwarts, and you met that Susan, what, two months ago? Bored her ear off with your daddy issues I hear."

"Stuff it Urquart!" Mulciber snapped. "I don't want to hear none of yours from a guy who got his arse rejected."

Urquart did not seem the least fazed by this humiliating reminder. "I got rejected, yes. Doesn't make your attempts at begging for ways to woo Gryffindors any less pathetic."

"Maybe you should have asked for advice before you made your move, Urquart. Maybe then you wouldn't have failed so hard," Mulciber scathed mercilessly. It appeared the animosity between the two hadn't cooled off any with a two month separation.

Snape pressed his fingers up to his temples, now truly regretting cutting his evening with Lily short for this. "If the two of you are going to snip at each other, would you kindly take it to the other end of the Common Room?"

Not seeming to care one whit for Snape's peace of mind, Urquart continued, "All the advice in the world won't keep you from failing."

"Speaking from experience, fairy boy?"

A hiss issued from the boy, seemingly rendered mute with anger or at least unable to find a comeback. Turning on his heels, Urquart stormed away, apparently rendered utterly defeated by mere words.

"I had never pegged you for your strength in the verbal arena. Your victory was quite unprecedented," Snape muttered dryly, staring after Urquart who retreated down the steps to the dormitories.

Mulciber sneered, seemingly unfazed by the backhanded compliment. "Found out Urquart has a big chip on his shoulder about his manliness. Big tip if you ever need to shut his trap up."

Of course. His two greatest student allies within his House and they're too busy attacking each other than doing any real good. With a sigh he was no longer able to suppress, Snape sunk into his armchair. Any good mood his day had bought him completely and utterly spent.

They both sat back quietly and for a moment of stupid optimism, Snape actually thought the rest of the evening could be spent peacefully.

"So…" Mulciber punctured the pleasing silence. "About Gryffindor Girls…"

Snape could not stifle the groan this time.

* * *

Sev was hovering like a mother hen as Lily peeled the thick bulbous roots of the Monkshood. A swift motion that cleared the debris from the white fleshy pulp, not as skilful as Sev could but well executed none the less. Yet he was still poised over her shoulder as if to pounce the moment something went wrong.

"Please, Sev. You're throwing off my concentration," Lily growled between gritted teeth. Her usually steady hands shook under the scrutiny. If she poisoned herself it would be his fault.

Though it took her a while, she hadn't any problems up to this point, and arguably through far harder stages. Those knots she had to tie the bulb ends with was extraordinarily difficult to accomplish and she could feel cramps forming down the centre of her palm. How Severus had done it so quickly was beyond her. The rancid liquid fats too had her splitting a few hairs. There had been few moments in Lily's life as comparably disgusting as whipping liquefied decay into butter. She hadn't seen Sev jumping to her rescue in that moment.

With a sweep of her cutting board, Lily dumped the finely sliced roots into the cauldron. With a pass of her hand and muttered spell, she brought the fire roaring high. "Now about three minutes, correct?"

"After it boils," Sev corrected, seeming content to sit back down for this brief interlude.

Lily smiled as capped the lid atop the pot and set to map out the next steps. She arranged the small bundle of horsehairs and pre-sliced turmeric closer to hand. With a sigh she moved her small jar of unbelievably foul concoction into its place in line.

 _Will of the lion, Lily. Will of the lion._

With a grimace, Lily glanced up to solicit a moment of empathy from her boyfriend, now fiancé, only to find him no longer paying any attention to her concerns. Instead he had open a book in the corner, seemingly content to trust her in the fetid butter stages.

"After practically hanging off my shoulder, good to see you're so confident about how I'd fare with the next step," Lily muttered quite acidly.

Not seeming to quite catch her tone, Sev glanced upwards and sent her a gentle smile. Lily couldn't help but return it, sundering the annoyance that was threatening to form into a sharp regretful outburst.

None of this had been his fault in the least. A foul mood had been dogging her since the night before, since her roommates had invoked her ire. She understood their concern came from a good place, just like her father's had, and possibly even Petunia's in a distant alien way, but it was all beginning to wear her down.

"Do you ever get anyone tell you I'm not right for you?" Lily whimsically asked, fishing for a little empathy.

Severus glanced up from his text, brow arched. "I would like to assure you that any issues raised on my end had always been with me, or with their ideologies."

Right, the muggle born issue. "And hadn't that… well… bothered you?"

Any traces of whimsy fled from the atmosphere. Lily could feel the conversation turn serious before he even answered. "They almost _destroyed_ me, Lily. Don't doubt me when I tell you that I never let anything else touch my thoughts as deeply."

She shook her head slowly, already regretting bringing up this painful topic. "I don't doubt you."

His smile returned, so warm and trusting. Rare was the trust of a Slytherin, Lily knew this was doubly true for Sev. How little this world gave him reason to trust, yet he trusted her with all his heart. And here she was testing every corner of his.

"Sev, would you do something for me?" She asked with a sudden edge of determination.

He blinked slowly but responded with no hesitation, "Anything."

Lily slipped from her workbench, leaving her pot with less than a minute left on the boil to summon a textbook from her bag. "Here. Have a browse." She shoved the book into his open hands just as she flitted back to her chirping wristwatch.

Turning the flames down, Lily flipped the lid and threw in the bundle of horse hairs.

 _Five careful strokes clockwise with minimal upset of sediments. There will be no visual indication of success or failure._

She set her stirring rod in carefully, doing as she was instructed, careful so that a misstep here won't affect her half way down the brewing process so that she would have to start again.

"What exactly am I looking at?" Severus' voice rang out. He no doubt was waiting for this step to be over, probably even watching her carefully.

Lily set down the rod, content to let the brew simmer for a little while. Window of a minute he had said. "Enchantments. Pick out one you like."

He arched a dark brow. "Where is this notion going?"

"Can't a girl do something special with her engagement ring?" Lily asked with a wink, eliciting an all too pleased smugness from her fiancé in question.

There was no doubt in her mind how Severus was taking the idea of impending marriage. He was probably the happiest she's seen him, smiling the moment he set eyes upon her this morning, gracing her with a tender kiss in greeting. It was honestly rather sweet. She had felt a little guilty about taking off her ring amidst fears of it wearing away as Pandora had said, but when she brought it up to Sev he had simply told her. "I would never have approved of you wearing accessories while potion crafting anyhow."

A chirp rang out from her wrist watch warningly, snapping Lily out of her thoughts. With a swift motion she dumped in the shreds of turmeric and evoked the fire with a sharp verbal command. This was one aspect of potioneering she had over Sev, minimal fiddling with wands.

No longer seeming to worry about her grasp of the potion, Sev leafed through the pages of the tome.

"I appreciate your intent," he began with a frown, "but do you not think the enchantment upon your ring should be better suited to your choice?"

Lily pursed her lips as she turned her stirring rod with far less care. "If ever you wish to try your hand at being romantic, just take what your pragmatic mind thinks is the best course of action, then flip it upon its head."

"You find Gryffindor logic, romantic?" Severus quipped lightly, eliciting a smile from Lily as she busied through the motions. The smell was coming, and soon she'll have no mind for anything else.

After another moment's consideration, Sev finally spoke, but with a hint of hesitation. "Well… If you are certain you wish for me to pick… then I'd choose a tracking spell."

Lily snorted, affronted and amused in turn, "Excuse me? Overbearing much?"

"You did ask for my thoughts," Sev mumbled, regret etched upon his reddening face.

"How would you like it if I chose to do the same to your ring?" Lily prodded as she withdrew the rod from her orange concoction.

She half expected for him to back down, but instead he continued, seemingly emboldened. "Then I'd say 'by all means'. I want you to be able to find me." But then he paused. "Wait. What do you mean _my_ ring?"

Lily couldn't roll her eyes hard enough. "What, do you think I'd be the only one wearing a wedding ring? Make another for yourself."

From the expression on Severus' face, she might as well had suggested something ghastly. "Wizards don't wear wedding rings."

"Oh, so it was for my benefit?" Lily retorted with narrowed eyes. "A little muggle gimmick for the muggle-born witch?"

"I didn't mean it like that," Severus quickly backtracked, panic building in his black eyes.

Any further debate had to be cut short however by the sudden chirp of Lily's watch. With a sigh she held up a hand for truce, then reluctantly turned to that unassuming ceramic jar. "We'll finish this later," she warned, as she took a deep breath and uncapped the lid.

* * *

As it turned out they hadn't been able to finish that discussion. Before the potion drew to its first night's completion, Snape had to leave, citing his make-up tutorial meeting with Dumbledore. The one he had missed in favour of an evening with her. That notion certainly elicited a scandalised lecture on irresponsibility, one that Snape took in stride and did not take to heart.

He was confident Lily would be able to bring the potion to the end of the first day without mishap. Her skill and care silenced any voice of worry within his mind. She was brilliant and quick, with natural ability unmatched by any student he'd ever had. Only her Gryffindor outlook held her back, that short-sighted habit of never looking too far into the future or at too large of a picture.

But without it, would she have wanted to marry him? A Slytherin would never have taken such a risk.

A part of him feels like he's taking advantage of her. Knowing this was one of her shortfalls and exploiting all that he could from this unguarded weakness.

At the very least he had confidence he will be able to provide for her, and that he would never take her for granted. Perhaps that would be enough to vindicate him.

"You appear distracted, Severus. Anything I can help you with?" Dumbledore's voice yanked him violently from his miring thoughts. It was honestly quite rude of him to drift off so when the headmaster was personally teaching him.

This was one of those rare tutorials that had actually become a lesson, with Dumbledore going so far as to procure his old hand-written alchemical journal for Snape to read. The journal showing the discoveries in the craft that the young Albus had made while experimenting with his own memories and emotion. A most personal lesson of the intricacies of the craft.

And Snape had so rudely been distracted by his own personal failings.

With a bow of his head, Snape acknowledged his fault, "My apologies. I meant no disrespect." Snape returned to the page he was reading of a young alchemist's notes on the acidic-alkaline flipping properties of memories of laughter.

"If I may, Severus. I sometimes find problems easier when you share them," Dumbledore attempted gently, peering across his oaken desk.

 _That's cute._ "Was this discovery before or after you told nobody about your sister?" Snape snipped.

Instead of looking offended, a weary smile touched the headmaster's lips. "Because I had not told you, does not mean I had not told anyone."

A glower came to Snape's face, he was beginning to discover the ugly holes of trust that dotted their previous friendship. He had always known Dumbledore trusted him only for his obvious heart, that one glaring weakness within his Slytherin armour. A weakness offered willingly to the brilliant man.

But never had the great warlock offered a single weakness of his own. A trust that never extended beyond professional.

"I spoke to Minerva about Arianna," the headmaster continued, a distant look upon his face. "I had not spoken a word of that incident for over half a century until then."

Snape glowered, feeling that resentment nip at his consciousness. It was somehow galling to think that Dumbledore had a confidant of his private matters, while restricting to the matters of war and wagers with Snape. If they were friends, they were never close. The only person in that lifetime Snape had ever permitted to know his heart had never truly seen him as a friend. That was various levels of sad.

"Forget it," Snape spat. "I don't need you to tell me anything, nor do I need to reveal more of myself than what you need to know, and already do."

Dumbledore nodded, not at all affronted by the brusque way he was verbally pushed away. He changed tact, evidently not conceding to Snape's wishes and letting this matter go. "Just a matter that came to mind. How is your courtship of Ms Evans going?"

Snape narrowed his eyes, checking his mental barriers to ensure they were in place.

"I hear much talk throughout the halls. From what I gather, it is going well, is it not?" There was a hint of concern in his voice. A too prying question for such mild concern.

"None of your business!" Snape snapped. "If I wanted your opinion on wooing women I'd ask for it. Though I imagine that'd be barking up the wrong tree." He sneered unkindly.

If he was offended, the headmaster gave no indication. "Oh, I assure you I am rubbish at wooing men as well."

Snape turned his eyes away, glowering. Though he had been the one to prod so cruelly, he had no wish to converse on such a perverse topic.

"Actually, Severus. I believe you may be the only person that I told of this." Dumbledore paused, as if finding the words. "About my… deviance."

"I have no wish to hear about your slew of queer conquests," Snape grumbled, distinctly uncomfortable.

Unchastised Dumbledore quipped lightly, "Alas that list would be short indeed. I have never since forayed too far in matters of the heart. I never trusted my own again, if truth be told. Not after what happened."

"And yet you unrepentantly spout such muck on the power of love." There were few conversations the younger man wanted to avoid more than the one he wished he wasn't having now.

With a twinkle in his eye, Dumbledore asked, "Do you not believe in the notion, Severus?" Glowering, Snape stubbornly refused to answer that baited and frankly embarrassing question. That did not deter the old headmaster however, seeming determined to press a point. "But of course, how could you not? When you had lived in a world that witnessed the very proof of how love could bring about miracles."

Snape could not help bristling. "Don't you dare speak to me of Lily's sacrifice!"

The twinkle in those blue eyes became a sad smile upon his face. "Though that was indeed an unfortunate but exemplary example, I actually meant you." Snape frowned, scowl still firmly set in place. "Your love, Severus had been what gave the light its first and last chance. Your love, beyond all chance of ever being returned, but undying for so many years."

"What a miracle," Snape drawled sardonically.

"It is. It truly is, to have a heart that steady and true." Dumbledore withdrew, and folded his hands before him. "And with the gathering darkness, that little light is probably what we all need most. Congratulations Severus, it appears the strains of your heart has been returned."

The younger man's eyes narrowed. "Odd that you do not appear at all concern that one of your students is being courted by a man twice her age."

"Is that the concern that has been crinkling your brows?" The headmaster asked with a smile to the confirming scowl of his would-be-professor. "But I don't believe it is in your heart to bring ill to her."

With a scowl, Snape almost fell silent, was almost content to let that comment slide. But he could not help that intruding guilt. "I'm to marry her. Is that not bringing enough ill?" A damning sin riding upon his heart. A confession of an action done in selfishness, knowing all too well to what detriment it would hold her fair life to.

"Oh, my heartfelt congratulations, Severus," Dumbledore quipped lightly, though his smile faded.

"Don't give me that!" Snape spat. "She is the age of what one of my students would have been as a professor under your employ. You are thinking it, that I am immoral in my actions. Don't coddle my feelings and take me for a fool!"

"I will admit, that concern had touched my mind towards the beginning of our association. The fear that you might use your vast difference in experience to… predate upon her." Dumbledore shook his head, gentle smile still upon his lips. "But that concerns me no longer, for I trust your heart. You would not put her into a coercive situation.

"I appreciate that vote of confidence," Snape muttered, slightly mollified and only half in sarcasm. "She knows not the life she gave up on my behest." He shook his head. "I confess, that had been pressing upon my conscience worst of all."

An understanding nod was all Dumbledore could give him. "But you know all too well Severus, the dangers of enlightening her to this fact."

"I know," Snape glowered, feeling that knowledge press against his very soul. Knowledge would endanger her, as it would endanger their campaign. "Rest assured, I would not risk her. Nor would you, I presume." He sent a glare across the table.

With a solemn nod, Dumbledore offered, "I will never knowingly put her to risk. I can at least promise you that, Severus."

"Do you take me for a fool?" Snape growled suddenly, clenching his fingers into a fist. "I can see the loopholes you left for yourself! Never knowingly put her to risk? You will not _allow_ her to be put to risk either!"

The headmaster's smile turned weary. "She was a warrior in your previous life I presume? The role all Gryffindors seem to find themselves playing in war."

That had been the case in that lifetime. Lily had fought side by side with Potter, his wife and fellow fighter in the Order. A role she could never reprise as Snape's wife. "She will not fight, Dumbledore. She will stay out of this war. I do not want her risked for _anything_."

"You would override her choice in the matter?" A frown touched Dumbledore's brow.

"I will," Snape replied without hesitation. "As will you, Dumbledore. Promise me you will deny her when she seeks to serve the Order."

After a moment of silence, the headmaster relented, as Snape knew that he would. One request, for the fate of one person, in exchange for the service Snape provided. It was not too much to ask. "I promise you, Severus, she would not be placed into danger because of me or my plans for this war. I will never pose a request to her that I know to be risky, nor allow her to place herself into a situation that I know to be so. Would that do, Severus?"

"For now," Snape muttered, still not entirely satisfied by the wording.

"But Severus, know this," Dumbledore continued, solemn but calmly. "I will need you for the coming storm, and will ask you to risk yourself over and over again for the sake of victory. There is a chance that _you_ may not get to enjoy a happily ever after."

There was always going to be risk. There would always be those that are needed to take it. "I was never going to flee from this. I promise you I will do what needs to be done, take whatever risks you need of me, to end this war."

He felt it then, a squirm of disquiet within his heart. The first he had ever felt in regards to his worthless life. For his mistakes, and his promises, he always had a lot to die for.

Never before had he something to live for.

"I only ask that you allow me face my risks. Never blindside me again with my life's end."

With a solemn nod, Dumbledore conceded to his request. "I hope I will never need to."

* * *

A/N: Well friends down, just family to go. I'm sure it could have gone much worse.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 19th May 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 34: The Core of his Being**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	34. The Core of his Being

**Chapter 34: The Core of his Being**

Throughout the hour-long Transfigurations class, Snape kept casting side-long glances to the girl slumped on the desk beside him. This year, Snape no longer sat in the back with his grouping of friends. Perhaps it was not the most tactical of decisions, but he could not resist Lily's allure when she convinced him to share a seat beside her, window-seat half way down the classroom. A true break from his traditional place in the back.

It was like a reversal to good times, before they found friends in other circles and bad blood emerged between them.

Though things had since become far more than just friendship.

He resisted the urge to touch his fingers upon her hair, instead touched her shoulder gently to rouse her before McGonagall noticed. He knew she was exhausted from the weekend's worth of gruelling brewing, but he doubted it was excuse enough to sleep through class. He certainly would not have allowed it.

"Mmmhm," she groaned as she flicked his hand away, seemingly intent on sleeping through the class.

That plan backfired as McGonagall turned her eagle eye upon them. "Ms Evans, I understand if responsibilities may be taking a toll on you, but I insist you at least try maintain some decorum."

Lily sat up with a jerk, still too dazed to look contrite. Thankfully McGonagall chose to move on rather than press her concerns with the exhausted girl, perhaps taking pity. A mercy Snape had never offered. Woe betide any student that chose to let attention slip during his lessons.

The little class time that was left trickled away uneventfully after that, an entirely theoretical class as was becoming more and more the norm in Advanced Transfigurations. A wholly expected direction for a man who had sat through this class twice, but no doubt gruelling for the more practical-stimulated and attention deficient students. Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs alike sat staring into space, and embarrassingly, a good portion of Slytherins as well. The Ravenclaws were perhaps the only House that had a high proportion of academically stimulated students.

Potter, surprisingly, was one of those sitting on the side of studious. There were few Professors that would call him a favourite, but Transfigurations appeared to be his element. It made sense now, after the discovery of the Marauder's Animagus secret, something that answered many questions he had about their ability to constantly evade pursuit during the course of chaotic skirmishes. It took all his self-control to stop himself from letting that secret slip and bringing upon them the backhand of the law. However, it was a secret he was certain Dumbledore would frown greatly upon giving away and thus losing the advantage of one of their known allies for the coming war. As much as it irked Snape, he could only indulge in vengeful fantasies.

"Excellent, Mr Potter. You have a near indomitable grasp upon this subject," McGonagall complimented lavishly as that Marauder collected his homework. An ego boost he definitely did not need.

With a cocky smile and a ruffle of his hair, that bespectacled nightmare of a boy accepted his work and turned to his girl, Marlene with a wink. At the very least she seemed suitably impressed, as her score could barely be worth the vellum it was printed on.

With a scowl, Snape stepped past the celebrating dimwit to receive his work. McGonagall fixed him with her sharp cat-like eyes and an approving nod. "I can certainly see you have been working exceedingly hard upon this subject, Mr Snape. Your work shows. I do believe you are the leading contender against Mr Potter for top marks this year."

While it wasn't in Snape's nature any longer to revel in his academic prowess, he could not help but smirk at Potter's crestfallen surprise. Anything that knocked that arrogant brat down a peg or two was welcome in Snape's book and it was the icing on the cake that it was he who had done so.

Still drowsy, Lily peeked over his assignment, then turned dejected eyes upon her own. Her marks were by no means low, but her grasp on the subject was nowhere near perfect. "I used to be better than you in Transfigurations. What happened?" She muttered with a sleepy pout.

"Alchemy," Snape answered evasively, and braced a hand upon that half-dozing girl's elbow to guide her out of the throng of students still clamouring to collect their work. "You have the rest of the day off, don't you? Get some rest." He gave, Lily's elbow a last squeeze.

"No," she grumbled, stubbornly contrary, taking hold of his arm with thoughtless abandon to public shows of affection. "I want to hang out. Why is it always work, work, work with us now?"

"We only got back from holidays four days ago," Snape responded in a low tone, ensuring his voice did not carry to the students who milled about them. It wasn't just his paranoia either, Mulciber, at the very least, was definitely listening. He could see the hulking boy glaring dejectedly at the girl hanging upon Snape as if it was all her fault that their group of Slytherins was scattered about the classrooms this year.

Rosier and Avery had not reassessed their situation, choosing to sit even further from their old friends. They chose seats prominently away from the backrow windows now, just shy of actually sitting on the front rows. It appeared they have made their choices upon their future, a decision that did not come as a surprise on this side of the holidays. They had two months of being directly exposed to the fanatical leanings of their families; it was honestly more the surprise that Mulciber came away unaffected.

Lester was the only boy who could be excused for being utterly removed from the goings on of the Wizarding World. The muggle-born boy had no notion of the politics of these dark families and was appropriately confused by the dark shift of atmosphere within the common room. He was still mostly unaware of the darkness upon the horizon that had eyes set upon people like him.

Urquart too had taken a shift for the moody. His family were not Slytherins and remained steadfast in the light, one of those pureblood families that would likely be considered House Traitors. Too often at odds with Mulciber, Urquart had taken to moving to the opposite side of Lester in their seating arrangement. A disagreement in basic proportion, but Snape appreciated that it did not cause too unmanageable a fissure within his small cluster of associates.

That tall dark-appearance-wise Slytherin was still in the class room at the moment, engaging McGonagall in what appeared to be a flustering conversation. Snape wondered if the boy was attempting for the heart of Pandora again through the path of subterfuge, and then briefly wondered on the morality of such an action.

If the possibility touched the mind of the girl in question, Pandora McGonagall appeared unflustered. When Urquart exited the room, she greeted him cheerfully. "Did she accept it this time?"

"I think it would have been more efficient had you given it to her," he muttered, their topic of conversation utterly enigmatic.

"Your uncle, your responsibility," the girl replied with an airy smile.

Snape had no curiosity on the matter, other people's business were their own. But his morals on personal privacy was obvious not the norm in society. "What are you on about?" Lily asked with casual curiosity, even though their conversation in no way involved her.

"Sebastian's uncle is a friend of my aunt's," the girl answered without a moment's coy consideration, not seeming bothered by the intrusive question in the least.

Immediately that gossipy shade of Petunia's appeared in their growing group, her ears perked to attention. "Sebastian, did you call him?" She asked, oh so obnoxiously.

"Oh yes," Pandora nodded. "We're friends."

A smile crept over Lily's face, her exhaustion seemingly forgotten. "Have her back before curfew, Sebastian." She giggled with a wink, setting off the throng of girls that suddenly surrounded them into a round of tittering.

Snape exchanged with Urquart a silent sigh as the boy finally found his voice. "We're just friends," he offered evenly, seemingly embarrassed by all the attention.

The disappointment was almost a physical force. "Really?" Lily looked so downcast by that idea, and Snape could not fathom why.

"Just like my aunt and his uncle," Pandora answered with a solemn nod.

"My uncle is living example that persistence does not always pay off. I would be a poor Slytherin to ignore the lesson," Urquart muttered with a shrug.

"How many times has he tried to send that heirloom to my aunt now?" she asked with wide curious eyes. Urquart rolled his eyes up and sighed as apparent answer.

Snape raised an eyebrow but did not add his voice to the conversation. It was a smidge of dramatic irony to know exactly how successful that enterprise would be. He had never known how that turnabout came to be. He had never been the most social, especially not during that time. Snape had never taken the time or had the interest really to find out how and why McGonagall got married. Apparently, from what he was understanding now, Elphinstone Urquart simply wore the woman down.

"Settling on becoming one of the girls there Urquart?" Mulciber's scathingly remarked with a sneer.

The entire gaggle of girls rolled their collective eyes as Urquart visibly suppressed a bristle. If this was the hulking boy's attempt to catch the eye of his hormonal interest then it appeared he took the exact wrong approach to garner favour among Gryffindors.

It was Susan that spoke up in Urquart's defence, to Mulciber's absolute dismay, "One of the girls? Hardly. Sebastian here is the absolute model of a gentleman escort."

Seeming to play along, Urquart leant into his suave bow. "I hear your next class is Divinations, may I escort you to your location," he offered, with an obvious knowing gleam in his eye as Mulciber visibly tensed.

"Why of course. I would be delighted," Susan chirped with a smile, placing her hand upon Urquart's offered elbow.

The bulky boy could only stare in dismay as the two ambled down the hall and out of sight, not even bothering to keep his heart off his sleeves. Lester patted the stricken boy's back in a show of empathy but it was a wonder if he even felt it.

"So much drama," Snape muttered under his breath as he brought his fingers up to pinch the bridge of his nose. It was only a few minutes but Snape was already ready to escape into a quiet corner of the library.

Lily smiled, having been standing close enough to hear his low pitched gripe. "Welcome to student life, Sev. I will be your guide."

"You want me embroiled in this chaos?" Snape tensed, genuinely horrified by the prospect.

She smiled that soft sweet smile. "I want you to be a part of my life as much as anyone else here."

"I'd rather not get a headache before having to do my homework," he grumbled, but made no move to untangle her arm from his.

Her smile tilted, as did her brow. "I'm afraid I don't want all our interactions to be restricted to homework and private snogging. We need to have a little healthy social interactions in our lives."

"Do we?" He could not look less thrilled.

She pulled her hand back from his and laid it softly upon his arm in a comforting gesture. "Come on," she pleaded. "Compromise a little."

"Have I not been doing just that since the beginning?" he muttered.

She gave him a sympathetic smile. "You're right. My turn." She cleared her throat. "Guys, Sev and I are going to go do homework. Anyone want to come with?"

If it weren't for that offer for company she tagged at the end, it would have been an adequate suggestion to Snape. The prospect was made all the worse by who took them up on the offer.

"Sure. Let's get our transfigurations out of the way while it's still fresh in our minds," James Potter agreed as he stepped out of the classroom and straight into this conversation. His girlfriend looked visibly lacking in delight at that notion, possibly the only other person apart from Snape who reacted viscerally at the idea. But whether it was due to the prospect of joint venture or the general idea of homework he had no notion.

"I can think of several things I'd rather do. Spending the afternoon with Peeves, comes to mind," Snape growled, in what he thought was an extremely restrained show of sarcastic aggression. To no avail it seemed, for Lily already begun heading towards the Grand Staircase, pulling the barely resisting Snape in tow.

* * *

"I'm telling you. Transfigured building materials is not a viable long term solution," Severus argued, as passionately as she's ever seen him on the topic of anything. "Dimert's Observance of Magic Temporal. Time passes and magic fades. The original caster dies and the structure collapses. There are too many reasons why your idea is not viable."

"I wasn't looking to make it permanent," James retorted, more hotly than this debate deemed necessary. "I was just entertaining the possibility of using Maquark's law of Elemental Substitution to strengthen a building's construction to temporarily substitute materials for stronger ones for remodelling purposes."

In a scathing tone, Severus retorted. "Have you even thought about Elpat's Laws on Restrictive Similarities?"

Beside him, Lily sighed. At the very least they were fighting constructively. Honestly, she didn't even know how this got started. Their homework was on the Mechanics of Motion in animated non-animated objects. Essentially how a desk is able to dance on the behest of a caster.

But Lily wasn't too annoyed. There honestly was no real chance for any homework to be completed today. She was so exhausted she was one trailing sentence away from slipping into a coma. The smell of the potion she had a front row seat to, had been so bad it she woke up sweating in the middle of the night to a nightmare of having to drink that stuff.

She threw a look of sympathy to the unfortunate werewolf who hadn't even glanced up from his work. He must be well-versed to ignoring calamity around him having been a pacifist amongst Marauders.

Severus, broke off mid-argument to cast a glance of worry at her as she pressed her quill to her vellum and lifted it again. Her scroll was already covered in a rich tapestry of mysterious ink blotches.

"Go to bed. You are accomplishing nothing by being stubborn," he muttered to her in a soft voice but a commanding tone.

"And leave you outnumbered in the study hall? That would be impolite of me…" She could not stifle the yawn that followed her sentence.

He frowned but seemed to relent. Severus was sitting amongst Lily's friends, a snake amongst lions. Had it not been for her presence, she was certain he would have abandoned his attempts at homework in the hall as well. Though considering how he was spending his time right now, who knows, maybe fleeing from company would be time better spent.

She cast a little sympathy to the other students sharing this hall, mostly Ravenclaws, many of whom immediately took flight the moment a horde of Gryffindors entered. These study halls are only patrolled by teachers in the afternoon, and past experience has taught everyone that large groups of Gryffindors could not be counted on to work independently and without chatter.

"And done," Remus declared as he emerged from his scroll with a smile.

Lily startled. "What really? It's just been…" She checked her watch, her sluggish mind struggling to remember what the hands and dials meant. "An hour?"

"This is quite literally the most productive I've ever felt," Remus replied, grinning from ear to ear. The full moon had barely been a week past, yet no trace of fatigue clung to him.

Sirius brought his massive bear paw down on his friend's back with a rough show of comradery. "Our moonlight romps are really starting to be a real adventure.

That stripped the smile from the afflicted boy's face. He glanced quickly down the table to the two girls sitting on the other side of Sirius. Marlene had moved from her boyfriend's side a few minutes after the transfigurations debate started to sit with her fellow-chaser and equally study-averse Sirius Black, as well as the decidedly more studious Pandora McGonagall.

For a moment, Lily thought Pandora hadn't heard the conversation around her, but then she lifted her eyes from her foot and a half of writing and smiled at those worried eyes upon her. "It's fine. I already know about it. My lips are sealed." It really was a mystery how the girl knew what was socially acceptable to speak about, and what must be taken to the grave.

Remus threw his hands into the air to beseech the ceiling. "Is there not a single person who doesn't know?"

"What are you talking about?" Marlene asked gormlessly, quite literally the only person at the table ignorant of this badly kept secret.

James ruffled his hair with a nervous air as his best friend raised an eyebrow at him. "I'll… have to talk to you about something later."

"Merlin's beard," Sirius muttered. "Do something other than boinking why don't you two?"

James glared at his friend. "Bit rich coming from you." While Marlene looked absolutely murderous.

Sev seemed to shrink inwards, distinctly uncomfortable by the direction of the conversation. Acting such the p _rude._ Lily thought in amusement. She knew better though.

Unable to stop herself from touching her knee against his and causing him to sit up a little straighter, his eyes a little wider. She could see the colour already beginning to creep upon his face as he glared down at her incredulously.

"You're not so innocent," she mouthed with an all too knowing grin. Then with a wink, reached over to gently tap him on his hooked nose. He withdrew from the eyes that the motion drew, always too conscious of those around him.

Pandora spoke again, while being exceedingly subtle about the topic, especially for her. "And by the way, have you heard about this potion created by that Potioneer Damocles?"

Remus smiled. "Ah yes. One could say I've had special testing privileges." He shot a grin to his brewers across the table.

Lily started. They were talking about the Wolfsbane. "Really? It's finally public?"

"Oh yes. Released this summer," Pandora confirmed. "So, I take it that it works?"

"Unbelievably so," the afflicted boy confirmed with a solid nod.

The inquisitive girl sunk back into her misty-eyed considerations. "I imagine it cannot be cheap considering the materials that goes into it, on top of the general complexity and the fact it takes forty days to brew."

Half the people at the table startled. "Forty days?" Lily whipped around to her boyfriend who closed his eyes with a subtle sigh. "We've been brewing for eighteen days."

Severus was absolutely devoid of contrition. "I altered it."

"You altered the potion?" Remus looked stricken.

"It works doesn't it?" Sev snapped. "You've been drinking the altered recipe since the beginning."

It has never been so painfully apparent to Lily as to why Dumbledore had chosen her Severus to be the brewer. What he could offer the potion that nobody else could. He was always the genius in potioneering. He knew how to manipulate the ingredients instinctively in a way nobody else could. An incredibly time consuming and fiddly potion like Wolfsbane could not have been brewed with such consistent and efficient success by anyone else.

The worry cleared up from the faces of those sitting about the table. "Why doesn't he publish that recipe then? It's obviously more efficient." James asked in his still surprisingly thoughtful way.

"I never bothered sharing my alterations with Damocles," Snape muttered, eliciting audible aghast from those around him.

"Why wouldn't you?" Lily demanded, unable to fathom the way her boyfriend thinks.

"So many could have benefited!" Remus exclaimed.

Without a hint of contrition, Sev sighed and pressed his fingers to his temples as if to ward away a migraine. "I have no obligations to share my own inventions with the world."

That certainly wasn't the answer anybody wanted to hear. "Glad to see some things don't change," Sirius scathed. "You're still an O level jerk."

"Come on Sev. Think of all those you're helping," Lily beseeched.

"You have my formula. You do it," he grumbled, being stubbornly childish.

Lily tilted a brow. "Is that permission?"

"I didn't realise you ever needed it to share my work," Severus growled, suddenly and unexpectedly abrasive.

"Hey that's not fair." Lily frowned, no longer feeling the humour in their conversation. "I never intended to share it… it just kind of."

"Slipped out?" Marlene shot from across the table, and Lily suddenly felt outnumbered and defensive.

She shrunk into her chest, her face aglow. She made mistakes, everyone has. She had already apologised, profusely on both occasions. She could feel her temper fraying, a sharp retort forming on the tip of her tongue. Words to set off no doubt another round of prolonged fighting and hissing tempers.

But a hand landed upon her shoulder. "Sorry," Severus muttered. "I should not have drudged up matters already settled." An unexpected concession from the boy she had always expected to remember the worst about everyone. With a void where forgiveness should have been. "Do what you like with the formula I gifted you."

"You were so secretive about it before," Lily muttered, rendered uncertain by his sudden show of a maturity she could not even call to claim.

He smiled, a strangely unbidden smile she was certain was summoned for her benefit. "I had been protecting the integrity of another man's work. Now that he has released it, I do not see the harm in sharing my improvements. If you feel so strongly of this matter then do so." He stood then, as if the matter had been settled. "I must take my leave now. Arithmancy is soon. Rest well and take care of your health."

Lily could not help but smile. He wore his gentle maturity like a cloak of fine silk, his care stirred her heart. This was the man she is to marry, and she could no longer imagine it any other way.

"Hey wait. We still got fifteen minutes till Arithmancy," Remus said with a glance to his own dinged up pocket watch. "We could easily leave together in five minutes time and make it."

Severus pulled his fragile backpack gently upon his back and retorted, "Precisely why I'm leaving now." And strode away, causing Lily's smile to falter and a sigh to pass her lips.

* * *

As Sev had said, a nap was just what Lily needed.

The lazing Gryffindor stretched as she emerged from the covers, glancing to her wrist watch to check the time. She had set the alarm to wake her before Potions in the afternoon and managed to emerge back into the waking world without its guidance. The heat of the day was likely what awoke her, an erratically cast cooling charm having ebbed away.

Through the gap between the thick curtains of her four-poster bed she could see a trickle of the afternoon sun playing across her midriff. With a yawn, Lily lifted an edge of her curtain open, allowing the lazy sunlight to spill across her, inviting the breeze into her domain. It honestly did not feel like a Monday.

With the thought of Monday, Lily thudded her head into her pillow with a sigh, memories of homework flooding back. Her blank vellum sat in her bag, mocking her. She would be well within her right mind to get a little completed now before her last class of the evening, and perhaps a little more between Potions class and dinner. After then it would be back to that hideous potion, and tending it through its nightly motions. At the very least the dungeons were naturally cool.

With a muttered command, Lily cast upon herself a freshening charm to scour the sleep breath that always proceeded a nap. She always left the high duty dental care for the mornings and evening. A lazy habit, but she had magic, so why wouldn't she take advantage of it? She breathed out, her chilled breath frosting into mist in the heat.

"Ah good you're awake." An intrusive hand brushed aside the curtains allowing a rude dose of sunlight into the lazing girl's still bleary eyes.

"Mary!" Lily groaned as she screwed her eyes shut against the glare.

The curtains were allowed to swing back then as the form of her friend squeezed into the tight confines of her occupied bed. "Just want to talk, Lily."

With a minty sigh, Lily wiggled over to allow her more robust friend a comfortable portion of the bed. "You're not getting under my covers though," she grumbled, snuggling under despite the heat. With a whisper, she cast the cooling charm again, bringing the air to a tolerable misting chill.

"Neat trick," Mary observed with an affable smile.

Lily shrugged as she got comfortable pinned up next to her full-figured friend. "Sev taught it to me. He's really good at these temperature manipulation charms."

"Oh I see. Explains why your relationship escalated successfully over summer," she muttered with an all too knowing grin. "Frosty spells sure come in handy, you won't stick together."

Lily's lips quirked. Once upon a time she'd be in a hot fluster over the mere insinuation. It wasn't just their relationship that changed, but her state of mind. "Our summer was nothing so tawdry. You'll be surprised to hear but he's the unwilling party."

"I don't know what to be surprised about anymore," Mary sighed, her smile turning pensive. "I'm not surprised he's got a thing for you, nor am I surprised that you were willing to give him a fair go." She reached over and flicked her friend on her petite nose, causing Lily to swat her away in mock irritation. "What does surprise me, Lily, is how quickly your relationship proceeded."

"We haven't done the deed," Lily sighed with a dramatic roll of her eyes.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Mary propped herself up onto her side, prompting Lily to pull herself out of her comfortable nest into a more suitable sitting position with some reluctance. "You want to talk about our engagement?"

"A little bit, yeah." The usually relaxed muggle girl's expression sobered. "How seriously have you thought about it, Lily? I mean really thought about it?"

"I think about it." But honestly in more of a day dream kind of way.

Mary sighed, seeming to be unsatisfied by her friend's answer. "I don't know what it takes in the wizard world, but in the muggle world grounds for divorce are only available after three years of union."

"I'm not thinking about separation!" retorted Lily hotly.

"You should," The brunette stated in quite a reasonable tone, "because the future is ever uncertain, and that is a possibility, for good or for ill."

With a sigh the engaged girl in question sunk beneath her covers until only the top of her ginger bed head stuck out from the covers. "How could it possibly be for good?"

"Because not all marriages are good you know, Lily." Mary smiled an all too knowing smile as her wilful friend emerged once more. "And up until now you've not locked yourself in to anything. You're a free spirit with all the right in the world to sample what life has to offer."

"You worry Sev's bad for me too?" Lily sighed. She thought she had at least one ally in Mary. Mary who always encouraged her fancies, who would share her wealth of experience to ease her often flustered fears.

Bringing herself to an upright crossed-legged position, Mary sat herself down the bed to face her friend. "I don't want to think that, Lily. I know how important he is to you. And I can see that he has changed for the better in many ways. But Lily, right now you've only dated him for six months at most. You've only seen him at his best for this tiny period of time. Are you certain you want to gamble the rest of your life with this brief glimpse of this better man?"

"Three years."

"Excuse me?" Mary's brows scrunched in confusion.

"You said divorce is possible after three years," Lily recalled as matter of fact. "Sev and I have been together for at least that long. Sure not in the way we are now, but I've got a lot more sample size than just the year."

A frowning eyebrow tilted into brown curls. "When he was a horrid guy?"

"Actually, he was a great friend when we first met." Lily smiled at the touch of that memory. That grinning boy with unruly teeth, so eager to share with her his world. He never begrudged her anything, whether it be stories, advice or what meagre belongings he had to share.

How different a man he had become, and yet so similar in heart.

"You're comparing husband Snape, with child Snape," Mary prodded her softly. "Difference in age, experience and intent."

"I know he loves me," Lily affirmed with confidence.

"And he is also a Slytherin."

Those green eyes narrowed into slits. "I thought we're above House-labels now."

"You miss my point." A touch of worry furrowed those smooth brown brows. "I'm saying, remember that he's a Slytherin. They are known for being cunning, and ruthless, and manipulative. Lily, have you thought about that? Have you thought about how he might be playing your heart? As you always say, you know him best. Is that not also true for him about you?"

"You think he's manipulating my heart into his playing field?" Lily raised an eyebrow. "Need I remind you he's already turned down his opportunity for cheap thrills in favour of pursuing something real with me?"

"You think marriage is somehow less of a gift to him?" It was almost relentless how her friend pursued this matter. "You're richer than him, Lily. Financially you'd put him in a much better position. And let's not even get to how much more attractive you would be than any other realistic candidates he could possibly hope for. I cannot imagine a clever Slytherin like him playing for anything other than keeps."

Lily sighed, this wasn't what she wanted to hear. She wasn't a fool, she understood there was imbalance in their status, even when classism is technically a thing of the past, and not so much of a big deal for the middle class like her family was.

"So he might be into me for my looks," Lily conceded. "So what? Most guys would be. But I don't think for a moment he's after me for my money. He never so much as asked me for a quid, and any talk of gifting him anything would send him into a tangle of consternation. And if he's playing my heart to keep me, if he is willing to keep this act up for the rest of my life, then who am I to contend it?"

A smile touched her worried friend's face. A hard fought concession won from her rational friend. "Then I wish you two the best. I have no fears for the woman who knows her heart."

Lily grinned with bright delight. "Nor for the man who plans to keep it."

* * *

Despite the fact that the responsibility of the potion did not fall upon him tonight, Snape spent his after-dinner evening within its radius. It wasn't that he didn't trust Lily to remember, but he certainly wasn't going to risk her forgetting. They did not have another opportunity for redos, and the primary responsibility for this brew still sat squarely upon Snape's shoulders.

Though he cared very little about fudging the potion and putting that beast and his blessed friends to harm, he did not wish for Lily to share that burden. She was still their friend, and he was adult enough to accept that. It had taken twenty years, and a tragedy and a half, but he had got there.

Snape settled himself at his alchemical table, drawing out the notes he took upon the subject. Though he had already completed the set homework, he still felt the need to study the subject independently.

Potions had a set assignment he was certain he could complete without any expanded effort, and he had no work waiting for him from Arithmancy. It wasn't that nothing was set, but the Professor Vector had been pleased with Snape's demonstration of his knowledge in regards to the Septological Theorem applied to spell creation. The professor had declared that Snape gained nothing by writing a paper on the topic if he already knew it so well, a very practical way of seeing things, but expected from a woman who saw the world in numbers. He had already completed a good chunk of his Transfigurations paper this morning and would have finished it too, had Potter not drawn him into such obnoxious discussion. He got the feeling the boy was feeling threatened by the known genius elbowing in on his best topic.

Potter only had one redeeming feature on his schoolwork, and that was top place in Transfigurations. Snape was going to savour toppling the boy, along with all the other victories he'd had. The position of Head Boy had once upon a time, in another life belonged to that Potter, as did the woman Snape now had bound in promise. The life that privileged boy should have had was taken apart bit by bit by his insidious rival, losing a war he had no idea how close he had been to winning.

These victories that had once galled Snape to no end, Potter seemed to have brushed aside with absolute contempt. The boy didn't even seem care about the fact that his rival now possessed the woman they both coveted, even going so far as to find himself a new amour within record time.

At the very least his efforts in transfigurations was finally getting under the boy's skin. A victory for Snape's pettiness, and one he planned to indulge in private. He knew Lily did not approve and though she rarely said anything anymore about the grudge he persisted with, he knew she preferred him not to flaunt it. He knew how to be subtle, and he was too willing to oblige her. So long as he could keep her by his side, he was willing to act in any way the fool.

As he set his alchemical cauldron out, he paused, feeling thoughts of her stirring his heart. Purity; Professor Flamel had said it was memories that moved his heart that had created the silver catalyst.

Cracking open his Alchemy kit, Snape slid open a drawer on the minerals layer that was slowly filling with silver flecks. He was certain that his imperfect focus stone was the cause of these inconsistent results. He hadn't understood the meaning initially, Alchemy lessons seemed to come in maddening riddles, but now he felt certain that had he placed a more powerful memory, his focus stone would have come out all the better.

A moment that touched his soul truly. That was what 'purity' meant. There was only one thing in his life that truly had a place in his heart, one person whose memory built a path from the darkness. A moment that called to his side a creature created from the only happiness his life had ever known.

With a flick of his wand, he sent the cauldron floating off to collect the water from the gargoyle head faucet. Purest of substances, the only carrier fit for the purest of elements. Setting the container before him, he held up a small nugget of silver, twisting under the dim orange glow of his oil lamp. The heart of the catalyst, combined with his own. Silver was a most poetic substance.

Snape cast the fleck in, chanting as it sunk beneath that clear surface. The pure clear liquid began to swirl about the silver nucleus, a dance he was becoming all too familiar with. Pressing the tip of his wand to his temple, Snape drew out that memory and dropped it into the swirling cauldron. The clear liquid coloured with the offered memory, a form of liquid silver.

As the chant ended, and the Focus Stone began to form, Snape realised there was the presence of another within his lab. He almost started when he found Lily staring at him from across his table. Somehow her entrance had completely escaped his notice.

"Is that also alchemy?" Her bright green eyes peered inquisitively into his cauldron, watching in wonder as a formless silver catalyst shrunk and coalesced at the bottom of the cauldron. A stone sat upon the bottom of his pot, a colourless opaque like smoke within a crystal ball, but set with powder blue swirls throughout the body of its substance.

A smile touched his lips, a reflex now, whenever he met those bright green eyes. "It's a focus stone."

It didn't seem possible, but those bright green eyes seemed to shine all the brighter. "That's a focus stone?"

He scoured it from the pot, holding the galleon-sized lump upon the palm of his hand for Lily's scrutiny. "It is a catalyst for the creation of silver."

"It's beautiful. Like smoke, breathed with life," she gasped with delight, reaching her fingers out to touch it. Snape caught her hand and turned it, pressing that pretty little stone gently into her palm. "It's warm. Is it meant to be warm?" she asked, eyes wide.

"No. Just the heat of my hands I'm afraid." Snape answered, wondering if the answer would disappoint her.

Just the opposite it seemed. She giggled as she turned the pebble about in her hands. "You're a very warm man, Severus Snape."

"Literally," he murmured as he leant over, planting a kiss upon her lips to her amused delight.

"You rule breaker, you," she accused with a peal of laughter, wrapping her arms about his shoulders.

He smiled so easily, rarely in his life had his heart ever felt so light. "What can I say? I know my way around a Gryffindor's heart."

"Manipulating my heart, how very Slytherin of you," she muttered, her tone was oddly only half in jest. Her fingers withdrew from his collar, in her grasp that silver stone shone. "I was wondering, could I have this stone?"

"It's yours," Snape growled, pressing her fingers closed around that magical stone.

"I'm going to have to crush it to dust," she continued, rather sheepishly. "It's how Focus Stones are processed in the course of enchantments."

"You wish to use my focus stone as its core." The Slytherin nodded in understanding. "It is most fitting, actually. The memory I used for its creation is the memory that binds you to my heart."

A strange sappy smile spread across Lily's face. "Wow," she exclaimed, before her smile tilted in cheek. She trailed her fingers across his chest in motions that sent flitters across his body. "Did you just learn how to be romantic, Sev? You truly learn quickly."

"Don't make me regret it," Snape sighed as he took a distancing step backwards. Already regretting it.

Lily grinned and stepped back as well. "Lab rules back in place."

"Thank you," Snape murmured, glad for Lily's understanding. However humiliating his teenaged self-control was, he trusted her not to hold it against him.

Lily sat herself at the bench, already with the Wolfsbane out and ready for its nightly routine. She hesitated a fraction, as if uncertain where to stow her gift, before drawing out a small ring box. She cracked it open with a smile, turning it to Sev so he could see the plain silver ring she carried within. "What do you think? I'll enchant it tomorrow?"

"I would be honoured if you would allow me to watch," Snape said, genuinely curious.

"Be there. I insist," Lily grinned. "I already have an idea about what kind of an enchantment I can weave. On both our rings." She tipped a brow as if to glare insistently.

The Slytherin sighed, "I'll bring more silver."

* * *

A/N: What's this? Snape getting happier? Heresy!

Life's been getting pretty busy lately, so much so that I haven't even managed to write a chapter in over a month (don't worry we still have a lot of buffer chapters from now until then). I'm in the last stages of training for a really cool job that I can't talk about (But aren't the coolest jobs the ones can't talk about?) and only have about 2 hours a day after training ends. I'm expected to spend that time studying or prepping my gear for the next day. If I don't reply to your reviews, just know I appreciate all your reviews, I just don't have the time to reply to everyone and write chapters anymore.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 2nd June 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 35: The Threaded Souls**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	35. The Threaded Souls

**Chapter 35: The Threaded Souls**

Snape's Tuesday and Wednesday stood completely devoid of classes. A free window that coincided with Lily's exactly. It helped that they both selected exceedingly similar classes going into NEWTs. With homework complete, the Slytherin Head Boy only had his upcoming patrol to worry about, while his Gryffindor counterpart was already beginning to struggle with the workload. But this fact did not stop her from delving deep into her new hobby-art.

Snape watched her all of Tuesday, scribbling text up and down a cluttered looking length of parchment, as close to his own spell crafting as he had ever seen her. He was silent and patient throughout the entire process, understanding how painstaking it could be especially for a person who had no Arithmancy background. It was fortunate Lily's natural magical proclivity was so high, for she had to almost entirely brute-force the process.

Wednesday morning was the day she slated for the practical portion, as apprehensive as Snape had ever seen her.

"Proteus Charm would work… I think," Lily muttered seemingly to herself as she cleared away her work bench. "Maybe combine it with a Human-Presence-Revealing Spell…" An idea of what she was attempting began forming in Snape's mind. He could not help the smile that came unbidden. Something he hadn't known to come so easily, not for years now.

Her eyes lifted from her scroll, eyeing the rough pieces sitting in the bottom of her mortar. She had shattered the focus stone magically to prepare it for grinding, a process Snape had offered to complete for her.

" _Thanks, but no thanks. You made the core and the rings, silver and all, so let this enchantment be mine entirely."_

Snape watched her get to work, taking the pestle to the small scattering of rocks and brought it down with a crunch upon the brittle substance. It had been hard to crack, but once it shattered the crystalline structure crumbled like chalk.

Lily ran the pestle around, crushing it as if she was mincing Aconite roots. Her motions were practiced, but far more forceful than he would have committed. He had also suggested to charm the pestle to take the task on magically, but Lily insisted that it be done by hand. She reasoned that she had never done the enchantment before, did not know exactly how a spell cast upon it was meant to link with the magical core and she only knew the basics of the steps to take. She did not wish to risk spoiling her spell with hap hazardous ignorance.

That was a reasonable thought, Snape knew very little of the topic either. It did not help that no enchantment experts were staffed amongst the teaching Professors, and frankly he did not feel comfortable bringing something so frivolous to Dumbledore's attention. Snape was meant to have his nose to the grindstone over Basilisk Venom, not play hobby with another branch of difficult magic.

He was beginning to feel guilty about his reluctance however, as Lily became red in the face in her exertions. It had to be properly powdered, she had said, and though that white fine substance sitting at the bottom of her pestle looked close to fitting the criteria, it appeared she was not going to risk stopping short.

Embarrassingly, he actually started comparing his physical capabilities to hers. At this age he was woefully physically below par. Though he was capable of a few feats of strengths most would not expect of him, but he would wear out in exceedingly due time. If she took him up on his offer of physical labour, he doubted he could match her efforts.

It came down largely to his own physical waste, the fact that he had not been able to access appropriate nutrition in the younger years of his life and the obstacle of being returned to that environment annually. He never grew exceptionally very tall, and though he enjoyed a brief period at the end of his teens where he became physically quite fit, he was in no mental state to enjoy it. For that had been his gruelling Death Eater training that took him to his physical peak; the best years of his health spent under the influence of his insanity.

When his senses had finally caught up to him, his world had crumbled. Decades of waste and ill care then followed until he was almost as decrepit as his youth. Though Hogwarts never left him for want, he never found his appetite again.

He glanced down discretely, silently judging his own thin frame. He was far healthier than he had been this time last year, both physically and mentally, having spent most of the holidays outside of that damnable household. But he was still below average in height, weight and build, and likely will persist in this diminutive form as he would never take on a front-line role in war ever again.

Lily never seemed to indicate much of an opinion in this matter, as much as she seemed to forgive his unappealing face. He was certain every time she embraced him she could feel the press of his ribs; every touch revealing the wasted form hidden beneath his rags. She had even laid eyes upon the ruin of his body when she once goaded him into undressing. Yet none of this seemed to dissuade her, not his looks, not his poverty, not his prickly heart. Against all reason, she persisted in her course. She had chosen him and her heart seemed ever straight.

He watched her with his silent smile as she finally ceased her efforts, scraping the powder out gently with a thin spatula.

"Ring, Sev," Lily commanded, as she set out her own. It looked different to the simple band he made for her, shapes and patterns dotted its edge anarchically as if she had spent a deal of time playing with its form.

Without any more hesitation, Snape drew out his own band, fashioned from his flecks of silver as per instructions. He had crafted it to the width and thickness of his liking, as plain as a band of silver could be. He loathed the idea of jewellery but could not find it in himself to deny Lily this. If she truly wished to keep him as her husband then it was the very least he could do to allow her to mark him as so.

He set the trinket gently against her smaller and more decorated one. A sight that quickened his heart, a moment become too real.

A thought that Lily must have shared, for she cast a glance up to his eyes, smile playing across her lips as he fingers touched upon the conjoining rings.

"I'll have to break them down," she murmured, as if the sentimentality bore hesitation.

"You'll have to, to add a strengthening metal anyway," Snape replied as he slid a chip of copper across the table. "Exactly seven point five percent of the final total weight, I have calculated it. At the very least our rings will be sterling silver." That smile again, given freely to her, and only her.

With a deep relenting breath, Lily brought her wand against the metal and proceeded to take them out of form, swirling the liquid quickly against the smooth surface of the bench. If she allowed the substance to stop it would solidify instantly against the grain; Snape had learnt that the hard way.

For Lily, this was not an issue she seemed to worry about as she manipulated the substance easily while she turned her attention to the following steps. Her magic came naturally to her, as did multitasking. Perhaps extended practice within the field of Potioneering brought upon that skill, or at the very least sharpened it.

With her empty hand, she brought her fingers above the small pile of powdered stone, twisting her hand in a small circular motion. A chant began low upon her tongue, as magic weaved about her fingers, a soft glow lighting upon the fey powder. The entire time, the molten silver never stopped dancing upon the tip of her wand.

In one swift motion, she brought the silver trailing across the table, flooding over the powdered stone, the heart of the enchantment sent into its swirling form. The copper fleck slipped seemingly unbidden into the mix, seeming to dissolve as it touched the magical material.

With her chant reaching a crescendo, she pulled the mass into even halves, allowing the vortex to slow and form to slowly take. Snape's silver emerged, perfect and whole as if untouched. Lily's ring, however, formed slowly and intricately. Twisting a pattern down one half, merging seamlessly into a plain-halo.

"I've been practicing that, I'm so glad it turned out well," Lily breathed, the moment the last tones of enchantment disappeared from her lips. "I can't disrupt the structure again once the form is set.

Snape reached across the table to pick up his own. It somehow seemed to feel different in his hands, as if heavier, more than can be explained by the addition of a chip of copper or the enchantment placed upon it. She too picked up hers, slipping on eagerly to admire in the lamplight. A silver ring, beautiful in care and crafting, imbued with her heart.

He turned his ring within his fingers, wondering if the weight he felt was more metaphorical than physical. "I wonder… would an etching disrupt your enchantment?" He murmured with some hesitance.

"I see old artefacts dinged up by centuries of weather and wear. I don't see why it would," Lily offered eagerly, her bright green eyes staring expectantly.

The Slytherin frowned thoughtfully, glancing across the plain surface of the halo-side of her ring. Slowly he held his hand out to take hers, holding it steady under the tip of his wand. He traced a slow silent spell across his surface, etching upon it an image he held firmly upon the surface of his mind. He was no artist of the pen, but his mind never lacked for creativity or concentration.

A gasp arose from the fair girl's lips as two does etched upon the plain surface of her ring, facing each other across the expanse of silver. As if across a moon-tinted lake, two silver does once had stood upon the start of their journey down this entwining path.

Lily smiled as she withdrew her hand from his, twisting it under the lamplight to better view the simple etching. "You romantic, you," she accused with a too-delighted grin.

Snape made to put on his own but her hand flew out to stop him. "Aren't you going to etch yours?" She asked with wide pleading eyes.

"You want me to wear that on my ring as well?" Snape asked aghast. It was one thing for decorated formal robes that he barely wore, but for a ring that would bring him the scrutiny of every eye?

But even as he protested, he knew his will could not withstand her disappointment. As her bright green eyes dropped from his, the Slytherin in him knew that was not the way to proceed.

"I am… open to negotiation," he muttered, willing it to not feel so much like surrender.

* * *

 _What did I do wrong?_

Lily glared at her ring, as if to blame it for failing to live up to its promises. It sparkled back at her, the light gleaming off its prettily wrought pattern, but not an ounce of magic could be felt between the two rings that theoretically should have become magically connected.

She sighed, setting her chin against her transfigurations homework in dejection. "Why do you think I failed?" she murmured to her oh-so-studious fiancé. Though he had no homework to complete, Sev had followed her to the study hall, bringing with him the patrol scheduling and meeting notes he was no doubt preparing for the next fortnight. They sat at the end of a long table, closes to the corner of the room, and by some magic of Sev's anti-gravitational personality, nobody seemed willing to sit near them.

She felt his fingers caress her back obligingly, gently, and oddly willingly in public. "You didn't fail," he murmured, his voice soft against her ear.

She smiled and brought her eyes up, trailing across to the silver ring he wore upon his left hand. A thick and sturdy band of silver, not decorated in any obvious manner, but decorated it was. A compromise he had agreed to, he had etched the same two does on the inner surface of his ring. Their rings were now a matching pair in form at least, if not function.

She sighed again, burying herself beneath her crossed arms. "So, who's taking the extra patrol next week? You or me?" Sev asked, a little too blasé about the fact that his fiancé was an utter failure.

"I'll do it," she muttered into the vellum. "I can at least do that right." Three generations of prefects from all four houses amounted to only six pairs of patrols, usually including the Student Heads. This meant there was always at least one repeat of patrol duties for an unfortunate, and the unwritten tradition dictated the responsibility to be undertaken by the Heads. She was exceedingly thankful that their head boy this year did not come from the prefect pool, meaning only one of them had to endure the repeat each week.

She felt his hand on her back again, making that comforting stroking motion. "Don't be so hard on yourself. You didn't fail. The magic is there."

Lily lifted her eyes up from her self-pity. "But it's not doing what I wanted it to do!" She had hoped to create two rings that were able to find each other, a concession to his desire to know how to find her, as well as her own to honour the love that went into that pulverised alchemical stone. But the rings felt stubbornly light upon her finger, refusing to emit the tug towards its bonded pair.

His dark eyes frowned, as if stopped by a sudden indecision. For a moment Lily feared he was about to be inclined to agree with her lamentations of uselessness, before his wand came to hand and a handkerchief appeared in the other. "You have a smudge," he muttered, holding out the plain white cloth in offering.

"Where?" She asked, a cheek filled smile spreading across her cheeks, expecting him to turn this into an opportunity.

Yet again Sev defied expectations, bringing the cloth harshly against her nose and scrubbed a little too intently to be considered playful. "I get it. You're efficient," Lily groaned, muffled by the offending material.

"Your work is smudged too," he mumbled, withdrawing from her personal space. Lily glanced down to see the smears of semi-dried ink across half a sentence. She rewetted her quill and reapplied a new layer of fresh ink, wishing a little that wizarding technology caught up to their muggle counterpart in this regard.

With a muffled sigh, Lily continued onto the next paragraph. Just two more covering Molak's third Postulate and its relation to overcoming the limitation of rigidity and she'd be done.

"I'm done with the timetable,." Sev sounded in her ear, eliciting another sigh from Lily. Why was he so competent? He made her feel like a slacker.

Glaring she glanced over at his vellum, reading off the names and how he arranged them. "Proud and Limply are both on the Hufflepuff Quidditch team. Neither of them could do Thursdays because Hufflepuff practice is on Friday mornings. If ever it changes, they always drop a note. Also I hear that Ravenclaw Erin is a member of Flitwick's Frog Choir so she can't do Fridays. Remus can't do Wednesdays because of Astronomy. Limply too."

"It would have helped to know this beforehand. Sev growled as he drew out a new sheet as if to redo the entire timetable.

"Actually, just let Remus have your shift and you take Proud's, have him move to Wednesday," Lily suggested, surprised a logical mind like Severus hadn't figured it out.

She had thought his scowl was intended for his failure to notice, but as it turned out it was due to reluctance. "Won't work," he muttered.

Lily frowned, waiting for the explanation why, but after ten seconds it became apparent he wasn't forthcoming. "Well? I'm waiting."

A strange sheepishness came across his features. "I…" He hesitated, scowling, causing Lily's eyebrows to jump up to the fringes of her hair.

"You have something on that night?" She asked dryly.

"No," he mumbled, then his words trailed off.

"Come again?"

"I said I don't want to patrol with Bones," he finally relented, eliciting a start of surprise from the Gryffindor girl.

She hadn't meant to sound so jealous when the question passed the threshold of her lips. "Why? What's wrong with her?" More like, was there history?

"There's nothing wrong with her," Sev grumbled. "I just don't want to patrol with a Hufflepuff."

"Excuse me?" Lily raised an eyebrow. "I thought you were over your little House-superiority phase."

He flinched, as if bitten by her words. "I just don't have any patience… for mediocrity."

Now that wasn't fair at all. Amelia Bones was easily the most capable of the next cohort of prefects, easily the top candidate for Head Girl next year. "You'll find Amelia is by no means incapable," Lily stated firmly, determined to dissuade her fiancé of such a rude notion.

"I know," he muttered to her surprise. "She's a strict perfectionist, a damnable idealist through and through. I don't want to patrol with her because I don't want to hear what she has to say about my history with the darkness of my House."

Lily frowned, a smidge concerned. "Did she say something to you before?"

"No," Sev muttered, adding to the confusion.

"I don't get it, did you just assume that she would?"

Sev appeared to shake himself as his scowl deepened. "Forget I said anything alright? I just don't get on with Hufflepuffs and their damnable ideological friendship is magic mindset," he growled just loud enough to attract dirty looks from Hufflepuffs sitting close by, causing Lily to shoot an apologetic glance towards them.

"Or Gryffindors, or Ravenclaws, or half of Slytherin really," Lily counted off her fingers in a teasing tone. "Get out of your comfort zone, Sev. The world is bigger than just you and I." She reached over to run her fingers through his long thick hair. He closed his eyes to the sensation, not even protesting her public show of affection.

"I wish that it weren't," he rumbled, a longing to his tone. "I wish life was less complicated."

Lily could not help but grin, slipping her fingers from his mane to prod him on the nose. "Should have thought of that before you willingly dated a Gryffindor."

A nervous clearing of the throat brought both Lily and Severus out of their moment. A small Ravenclaw stood at their table, looking suddenly very nervous, doubly so as Sev proceeded to glower at the poor thing. "Umm… Prefect… needed on sixth floor. Trophy room… Filch sent…" He squeaked, unable to finish his message.

Sev sighed as he stood, hand firmly set upon Lily's shoulder. "I'll take care of it. You finish your work." His tone brooked no argument, and she briefly felt the illogical crevasse of an illusionary age-gap. A highly irrational thought, considering they were barely a month apart in age.

He stepped away, his decaying backpack hoisted carefully over his shoulders, somehow sweeping out of the study hall with a confidence not unlike that of a practiced leader. He suited the role well, and he faced his responsibilities, although with complaint, but never shirking. More capable than she ever thought he could be with the responsibilities of authority.

A boy that was living up to everything she had always expected him to, and more. As he disappeared down the corridor, she thought she could still feel him there, like a beacon in her heart. But slowly, she frowned, as she followed his path down the hallway she knew to run adjacent to this room, she wondered whether this was an imagined feeling, or if she could really feel his presence?

With a start, she removed her ring, and suddenly the sensation faded into the ethers. Her pulse quickened as she slid that ring on once more, feeling a presence from somewhere from below, an unknown distance away from her. She could not tell exactly where he was, but she knew she could feel his presence. If she followed it, she knew she could find him.

A smile touched her lips as her fingers played across her silver ring. This wasn't as practical as she had designed it, but she had been warned the core would add its own touch to the spell. Who ever thought Sev's heart would be so sentimental?

* * *

"Would you stop fondling that ring? I'm trying to eat and it's creeping me out," Mulciber growled, still in a foul temper after what happened after Transfigurations.

Snape scowled as he withdrew his fingers. "I think we can both agree that you watching me does nothing for either of our appetites."

Snape hadn't taken off his ring since its enchantment, after realising the extent of the powers it lent. For it kept Lily by his side.

Though it had a limited range - he could not sense her if they were parted by more than the distance of four floors - it was enough of a promising start. These types of enchantments only grew stronger with age and the touch of residual magic. Given enough years it could easily encompass the range of the entire school grounds, years after they long left its bounds.

He could feel her presence and knew he could find her, wherever she'd be, if he followed his heart. As poetic as that was literal. He could not bring himself to take off that ring and he drew a lot of snickers because of it, and a lot of questions about why a man who favoured black suddenly took to sparkling jewellery.

That hulking boy glared, taking that jibe a lot more personally than he had been recently. With a dark mutter he sunk back into his meal. Snape too returned to his own plate. Whereas he would usually have been content with oats and fruit in the morning, he had switched it today for steak and eggs. Already he could feel the oils build about his pores and his stomach leaden with the heavy fare, no doubt regret was soon to come over his idiotic flight of fancy.

Lily never said anything, but he could not help but feel too daunted over the looming prospect of having her see him disrobed. It wasn't like this was a matter of immediate address, as the wedding and this imagined scenario was well into their future. It wasn't like he would ever be sculptured, nothing much to look at in that regard, or any regard to be honest. At the very least he didn't want his ribs to show, and this would require a conscious change of diet. He couldn't stick to his thirty eight year old eating habits in his seventeen year old body. The change was not simply the quantity.

Even at that settled age he had been borderline emancipated, as much a symptom of his troubles and anguish as his embittered heart had been, and he wished to bring neither into a new life with Lily. She deserved far better. She always did.

He worked his knife around the sliver of fat, parting it from the lean portions of his meat. He set to work disassembling what was left into neat bite-sizes and took a bite with a portion of egg scramble. Every fibre of his mind and body was rebelling at the notion of luncheon food for breakfast. Perhaps he should not have chosen this particular meal to overhaul his diet.

Before he could complete his contemplation of regret, the morning post arrived in the form of a flock of descending owls over the breakfast table. Unusually for Snape, he received one letter this morning, but this time it was expected.

He had written to Lily's father the day before, he sent it by owl before meeting Lily down at his laboratory for her enchantment. A letter informing Mr Evans of what transpired between Snape and the man's daughter, and an apology for not asking permission first. Though that tradition was falling rapidly out of fashion, he expected Mr Evans to be a man to hold firmly to propriety.

Snape accepted the letter from the barn owl's talons, dismissing the bird without obliging its request for some fat rinds off his plate. The birds were fed well enough as it is at this school, an extra treat of processed human food could only be detrimental to their outcome.

More than a little apprehensively, Snape edged the muggle envelope open, struggling slightly against the muggle adhesive and tearing the vessel despite his care. Urquart glanced over from his plate of hashed potatoes and kippers. "You don't usually get letters Snape. Everything alright?"

"None of your business," the awkwardly unsociable boy retorted. There was something to be said about Urquart, he didn't seem to mind Snape's brusqueness. He simply shrugged and returned to his breakfast, content to let Snape deal with his dilemma by himself.

But it did not stop him from flicking back his own little sting. "Just like your girly little ring huh?"

Snape scowled as his associates all grinned at his expense. Even Lester struggled to keep a straight face. Up until now Urquart had been the most accommodating about the matter in that he ignored it in its entirety. But nobody could expect the boy not to jab back when he gets jabbed at.

Wedding rings were not a tradition in the wizarding world so the concept of an engagement ring was a foreign notion to them. Snape did not feel the desire to explain to them what this was, they had no business in his affairs.

He glanced across the hall to find Lily staring at him. At the sight of his smile, her face instantly lit up, in her hands was also grasped a letter. His heart lightened, perhaps it was good tidings.

Without another word, Snape returned to his own, slipping the fragile muggle stationary from its equally fragile envelope. He had never seen the writing style of Lily's father before, and he could not help but note how similar the man's calligraphy was to his daughter's, except he looped his loops far more conservatively and turned his corners in a sharper more efficient manner.

 _Dear Severus,_ it read.

 _Thank you for writing to inform me in so timely a manner. I appreciate you kept my opinions in your thought, and though I am disappointed that I did not get to have a conversation to you about the matter before hand, permission is implied with my blessings to date my daughter. I did not expect you to be doing so without plans for a future._

Snape's heart calmed, his worries ceased. This letter was not a chastisement, and somehow knowing her father stood behind him and Lily made all the difference in the world. He continued reading with a lighter heart, turning his ring absentmindedly as he did so.

 _Lily had told me you are a changed man. Something I am inclined to agree with, but I suppose that is what growing up is about. I had been so worried for my daughter when she first told me about her plans with you. But you laid them to rest with your behaviour and demeanour over the holidays. You are not the boy you once were, and you are certainly not your father._

Snape paused, turning those words over in his mind. His heart felt simultaneously light and heavy, revulsion at the implications those words dredged up and relieved to be absolved of them.

 _There are few good and true men in this world and I believe she is lucky to have one of them._

Severus closed his eyes, grateful. The rest of the letter was a more formal demand for details of what the plans for this wedding entailed and a promise to financially assist in the matter should they choose to do so too soon after graduation to accumulate enough savings. Details Snape planned to address in a far less emotional state of mind.

He folded the paper and slipped it carefully back into the envelope, a letter he hoped to preserve. The first true words of approval he had ever received from a man who believed in him for the good that he could potentially do.

* * *

The sun was shining, the birds were singing, the temperature was at that beautiful sweet spot that did not need the aid of a cloak, nor did it invoke the touch of sweat. This was a wonderful day to be outside and getting her hands dirty.

Lily approached the green House, staring excitedly at the throng of students waiting for the start of Herbology. Severus was among them, she could feel it, quite literally. Though she could not pinpoint his exact location or distance, the general sense of which direction to head in was all that it could give but that was something. Enough for a first try. Enough to make their rings special.

Their engagement rings.

An engagement her father threw his support behind, despite all rationality of thought. She hadn't told her father her plans, she didn't think he would approve. She had just gotten him used to the idea of his daughter dating Severus Snape, to spring the surprise of an engagement on him did not feel like the best of paths to take.

Little did she know, Severus had already taken the exact opposite route of thought. And what a resounding success that had been.

With a suppressed squeak of delight, Lily set eyes on Severus. Even with the advantage of knowing which direction she would come from he was unprepared for her sudden and very public show of delight and affection.

"Severus!" She exclaimed in delight as she flung her arms around the startled boy, invoking every eye in the vicinity. She knew he hated it when she drew attention to him, and that action drew a lot very quickly. But he was her fiancé, he had to forgive her.

After squeezing him as tightly as she could, Lily made to release him, relenting to his tender sensibilities. Except she suddenly found his arms around her, locking her in a mutual embrace. With a skip of her heart, she held on all the tighter, grinning madly as eyes averted from the mildly too liberal show of affection. She stuck her tongue out at her best friend Marlene's roll of the eyes and Dorcas Meadow's mildly confused smile.

Severus finally withdrew, mildly embarrassed by his own foray into sentiments, but Lily could not help the beaming grin. "How did you convince him?" She breathed, still a titter.

"I told him the truth," Sev returned with a tilt of his brow.

Lily sighed. "That's all it took? Who'd have thought?"

"Oh right!" Dorcas exclaimed suddenly and unexpectedly. "You two are engaged! Congratulations." News always gets around so quickly when Susan got involved.

Severus' muggle-born Slytherin friend suddenly appeared at his elbow. "Oh my goodness, congratulations Snape. Is that what the ring is about?" Sev scowled and twitched his fingers, no doubt still very much self-conscious of wearing it.

Just four feet away, little Peter gave a start, turning his wide round eyes on the pair. "You're engaged?" He asked in a wheezy whine. He had been recovering from a cold since his return from holidays and the effects still lingered.

"Right, forgot to tell you guys," Marlene muttered.

Dorcas approached and took Lily's hand, turning it under her scrutiny. "Is this a muggle tradition?" She asked with genuine curiosity.

"Muggle? I thought it was magical." Lester frowned, throwing Lily into confusion.

"Umm. Engagement rings are muggle," she insisted to her fellow muggle-born. "Where are you from that it's not a thing?"

"Wales. And it's totally a thing there," the Slytherin replied with no less confusion. "Only, where I come from the men aren't supposed to wear one."

"They're not?" Lily blinked. She's always seen her father wear his golden band, even after her mother was laid to rest.

Lester shook his head quite insistently. "No. The man is only supposed to wear it after the wedding. As in after they're married. Only the women are supposed to wear an engagement ring."

"You're joking," Lily gasped aghast. She quickly cast a glance to Severus to confirm he had indeed shrivelled into himself in scowling embarrassment. She was rusty on her muggle heritage, really rusty, and by the looks of it Severus fared no better.

She saw her fingers twitch towards his ring, but then withdraw as if he changed his mind. "It's enchanted," he muttered as if in answer to an unasked question. "I'm wearing it because it's enchanted. Not because of some age-decreed tradition!"

Lily could not help but smile. She searched out his fingers with her own, entwining them with her loving touch. She felt the cold touch of his smooth ring against her skin and wondered if that little touch of electric was magical or imagined.

* * *

The Marauders couldn't even stay out of trouble for a week, he had no illusions about how the Nifflers got into the trophy room. They hadn't even managed to get to the end of that said week before they wrought destruction upon the first floor girl's bathroom.

Like father like son, Snape supposed as he scowled at the shattered pieces of porcelain and rivulets of bog water. Mercifully this bathroom was rarely used, if ever, by the female population of the school. The wailing ghost that usually haunted this facility drove most away, and with good reason. Snape couldn't think of many things less appealing than trying to do one's private business to the sound of wailing.

Regardless, there was a general fetid haze about the air, a foul smell all too familiar to that veteran potioneer. The Marauders had been making their own attempt at that blast potion it seemed, with too predictable results. Pettigrew, being the only brewer in that damnable group, managed to get himself hospitalised. That would not be enough to excuse him from detention, Snape would make sure of it.

"Rotten kids," Filch grumbled as he swept his mop around the lake of a floor. "I better not catch you stopping until I can see my face in the shine on that bowl!"

Black muttered darkly as he magically scrubbed the toilet seat with a flick of his wand. "Don't see why you'd want to see that ugly mug."

"What was that?"

"He said it's getting dark," Potter replied hastily as he siphoned at the watery mess. Lupin sighed but said nothing more, setting himself for a long gruelling evening of scouring the walls. There was something exceedingly gratifying about watching the Marauders receive a humbling, and Snape was almost tempted to spend the evening watching them suffer.

"From your snide comments it appears you are not appropriately contrite about the situation you have wrought our poor caretaker," Snape almost purred as his two lead antagonists threw him scathing looks. "I do believe, Mr Filch, that it would be most beneficial to the entire institution if you could educate them in some… appreciation. Perhaps if they're made to do at least some of the work without the aid of magic."

"Wonderful idea, Mr Snape," Filch crowed with delight. Black and Potter could not look more livid, and Snape took immense pleasure at the sight. They needed to be taken down a peg or two, the arrogant brats.

Lupin sighed as he stowed away his wand, reaching for what Snape assumed to be a mop made for walls. "Snape, you realise I have to patrol later?"

"Then you better get scrubbing," Snape sneered, without a hint of mercy.

"This isn't going to be done before then. Not the muggle way." He emphasised his conundrum with a hefty heave of his wall-mop, smearing the fetid remains of the potion across the stonework.

Snape scowled, not appreciating the boy rationally blackmailing him into softening his sentence. "I'll have your patrol replaced, so you have no excuses for leaving this facility before it is… excellent again."

The dark looks Snape received brought a pleasant wave of nostalgia. This was the one part of being a professor he did not hate, and this power came with the privilege of his position. The cretins deserved every morsel of suffering that came their way, especially since they were rarely caught these days, though he didn't think there was any way to punish them enough to reach karmic neutrality. With a satisfied smirk at this all too deserved dose of humbling, Snape strode out, leaving the cursed Marauders to reap what they had bloody well sown.

Though the hearty sunlight streaming through the corridor windows barely made it seem so, it was barely two hours till curfew. Hardly enough time to arrange a trade of patrol time with any other prefect. But that suited Snape fine, he had been looking forward to patrol work. To be given the freedom to roam the halls during the silence of the night. Even the prospect of having to wear that garish green sash and sharing it with company couldn't dampen the prospect. He was in higher spirits than he had been for a long, long time.

Unfortunately, he had not counted on who Lupin's patrol partner was supposed to be.

"Good evening. I am Amelia Bones," the Hufflepuff greeted very professionally with an extended hand. "You are the Head Boy, Severus Snape, I presume?"

"Yes," Snape answered, taking her hand in a single unenthused shake. Compared to most, Bones was positively a shining example of how he wished students behaved. Hard working, quiet and no-nonsense. By all regards he should have gotten along with her splendidly.

However, there was a bad history between them, one that this Bones could not possibly be aware of. Or be faulted for.

"I confess, I had been expecting the Gryffindor prefect, Lupin," She continued in her professional manner. "I had not received word that patrol times had been altered."

"Lupin had found himself… suddenly preoccupied. Nothing beyond this patrol has been altered," Snape replied, trying his best to remain cordial. He could not help the instinctive bite of defensiveness whenever he heard her voice. That voice that brought nothing but fresh accusations that dredged up the vilest moments of his past.

With only a curt nod, Bones took to her patrol route. Though he had spent nearly twenty years running into the prefect patrols during his nightly wanderings, he had never paid anything but a cursory heed to their role. Despite his position being in that of seniority over the Hufflepuff, there was no doubt who was the more experienced of the two in their duties.

There was no hesitation over which route she would take, no discussion or deferral to him. Yet Bones did not appear in any way uncomfortable by the fact she was outranked by a complete amateur.

Snape moved in step with the frigid girl, simply thankful that she wasn't one for small talk. He by no means disliked the woman, he'd even go so far as to say he respected what she stood for. Not many could have made Head of a Ministry Department at the age that she did. But she was an all too prominent reminder of the absolute worst about Snape's self. His past is a weight he no longer wished to carry about his neck.

The ground floor passed in respectable silence and Snape relaxed into the routine. No words were wasted between the two, they were both perfectly comfortable with the silence. Professionals in their own right, despite the age they were supposed to be.

It did amuse him that the dungeon areas were not included in the patrol route. Perhaps it was realised that Slytherins are rarely the transgressors of the curfew. The notion of an uneventful patrol, however, was shattered upon the corridors of the first floor. The trio of Marauders, finally released from their drudgery upon the havoc they wrought, trudged through the hallway.

"Hold it," Bones commanded and surprisingly those usually uncooperative laggards obeyed. She turned her attention on the increasingly sheepish Lupin. "Now what is your excuse?"

Potter sighed, "We just got off detention. Detention that Snape here had set. Cut us some slack. We can't help it that it took us past curfew." Black threw a dirty glare at Snape, as if blaming him, almost rightfully. Except-

"True that I had you committed to an… appropriately measured discipline, and can confirm you would not have likely been finished before curfew." His lips curled in a sneer. "Yet why has Filch not walked you to your dorms?"

Potter shrugged. "Must have slipped his mind."

"You twit," Black added with a venomous hiss.

Snape scowled at those belligerent boys as Lupin appeared to shrink inward with a sigh. "Filch knows best of all how strictly we impose curfew. Surely he would have at least given you a hall pass. Shall we wait for his testimony? He tends to be drawn to the sound of student voices."

"You know full well that we'd be out after dark. Having a lark with your newfound powers are you Snivellus?" The hound of a boy bayed.

"You are correct, I do know where you'd be," Snape replied, his lips curling with distaste. "The girl's bathroom on this floor, which is from exactly opposite hallway than the one you came from. Do you take me for a fool?"

"We took the long way around!" Black hissed, continuing to be contrary, inviting no mercy from the Head Boy who honestly would not have willingly shown them any.

Lupin suddenly waded unexpectedly into the fore, placing himself between Snape and the aggressing Black. "Alright, we're lying. We didn't come straight from detention. We snuck away from Filch and made a detour to the hospital wing. We finished our detention task I swear."

"Peter's in there for the night. We just wanted to make sure he's alright. He gets night terrors." Potter laid it on thick.

"We're headed back to the tower as we speak," Lupin insisted. Snape remained unmoved.

"Touching," The Head Boy sneered. "If you truly cared about your friend, perhaps not hospitalise him to begin with."

Snape's patrol partner suddenly stepped forward, turning attention with her presence alone. "Mr Snape is correct, we cannot have you breaking the rules simply because it's convenient for you." Lupin shrivelled inwards, appearing to suppress a groan. "However, I cannot fault the reason why you did it."

Snape's head whipped around, incredulity upon his face. "Their reason? How can their reason be enough to excuse their flouting of the law?" Snape's reason had never been enough, and no amount of 'reason' could shield him from this woman's lawful pursuit.

The Hufflepuff witch turned an appraising eye on Snape, seeming unmoved by his outburst. "They had not set out to break curfew as I understand it, in that part of the rules they had no choice. As to whether they should have returned immediately, I believe they are still morally on the fore." She gave a conceding nod to Lupin's small smile of thanks. "Friends need to be there for friends after all."

Snape stared, confusion mingling with outrage. This woman had never shown her an ounce of mercy in the intervening years of his past life. She cared not one whit that Dumbledore vouched for his sincerity, nor the distance he placed between himself from the man he once was. Yet with a handful of insincere words, the Marauders could twist her arrow-straight heart into forgiving their transgressions.

Yet again exceptionalism rears its head. Forever lingering proof life was stacked against him, while it bent over backwards for the likes of James bloody Potter.

"You will go straight to your dorms. No more detours. I will not tolerate your presence another time tonight," Bones told them firmly.

With a silent nod, the trio of trouble makers slipped around the prefects and headed up the Grand Stairwell. Snape was livid as he watched those cretins escape justice, disbelieving how lightly Amelia Bones had let them off. Amelia Bones, who pursued him relentlessly for every transgression rightful or imagined.

"I misjudged you, Amelia Bones. Here I took you for a fair-handed administrator of the law," Snape hissed through his clenched teeth.

The Hufflepuff glanced upon him with unaffected eyes. "What is fair is not always what is law, Mr Snape."

"How very convenient to be able to warp it at your discretion," Snape spat. That once-relentless pursuer of righteous justice, turned out to be simply another prejudiced against him.

With a calm tip of her head she conceded. "My decision was made on the grounds of empathy. I cannot claim to be correct in every judgement." She turned her steely eyes upon her Slytherin counterpart. "That is why you had the right to veto me at any point. You are Head Boy, Mr Snape. I would have deferred to your judgement. That is the luxury of not standing on the top. Kindness can be afforded."

And with that she turned her heels upon her Slytherin counterpart, setting off without another wasted word upon the circuit of the first floor. Snape stared after her retreating figure for a moment more before lowering his eyes and following suit.

* * *

A/N: The people in Snape's old life seem to give him grief no matter which side of the dark/light divide they sit on.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

And a thank you to all my readers for my first 1000 reviews!

Next Update: Saturday 16th June 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 36: A Most Insufferable Affair**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	36. A Most Insufferable Affair

**Chapter 36: A Most Insufferable Affair**

October was a wonderful month. The temperature steadied itself into a sensible range, the excited anticipation of Hallowe'en began its round amongst the student population. So much to love about the month, yet Severus could not be less delightful. His mood soured noticeably by the day without a word of reason as to why.

Perhaps it was simply an illusion as the jubilation of their engagement wore off. He was simply being restored to his default mood, which seemed to centre on brooding. He would snap out of it whenever she approached, whenever he knew her eyes lingered upon him, but the moment he thought she was not watching, he withdrew once more.

Perhaps it was the season. He had seemed to be in higher spirits in the summer. Lily supposed anyone would be angsty if they were forced to endure the harsh Scottish winter in robes worn so thin they could barely keep out a breeze. She wished he would just let her father get him a new set along with her own. She didn't really need a new robe, her old set was already three years old, but she hadn't grown an inch since her sudden spurt at thirteen. Her father however had insisted since she was graduating this year that she do so in the best possible fashion.

Severus remained prideful and stubborn. He insisted it was his final year at school and therefore his final year in this set of robes. He's endured them for six, there was no point in splurging on the last.

With the morning post however, Lily received a letter that knew she would only make Sev's mood even worse. A screech owl fluttered through with a muggle letter clamped in its solid beak, landing bodily in front of her, tipping over her goblet of pumpkin juice with its motion. That was the omen to which Petunia's letter arrived with.

"No…" Lily groaned as she dabbed at her pumpkin juice stains. "This is the worst."

"Tell me how you really feel," Mary quipped jokingly as she glanced over from her plate.

Lily sighed and waved before her this primly embossed lightly perfumed paper. "An invitation. To my sister's wedding. And its next month!"

"This is that insufferable twit of a sister you keep telling us about?" Marlene asked from across the table.

The red headed girl sighed, "One and the same." She stowed away that garish invitation and drew out the second piece of paper within that envelope and groaned even louder. "And she wants me to go on a dinner date with her and her fiancé."

Mary returned to her breakfast of toast and kippers. "That doesn't sound so bad."

"With Severus," Lily sighed, feeling a tingle of apprehension press upon the back of her skull. "She hates Sev. They never got on."

"Alright, that might get messy," the chubby muggle girl conceded with a wince.

"I like her better already," Marlene snarked uncharitably. Lily had always thought Sev would be the one to throw a tantrum over Marlene, not the other way around.

With great effort she ignored her best friend's jibes and turned to her far more level-headed friend. Since their talk, Mary hadn't said one worried word more about the issue, even going so far as to become the most supportive of those at her side. "She's absolutely awful. Always has been to him, especially to him."

Mary smiled a sympathetic smile as she chewed through her bite of toast before answering. "You said your sister moved out last year right? She hasn't seen him for a while, perhaps things would mellow between them? He certainly has mellowed."

"That doesn't mean he'll want to see her again," Lily sighed, already imagining the scene that would erupt. "She never lets up an opportunity to lash out with an awful comment. I don't expect he'll have forgotten it." She could never let him pass without a scathing barb about his looks or his poverty, constantly pushing every one of his buttons.

Her muggle-born friend smiled sympathetically. "When is this supposed to be?"

Lily glanced over the letter again. "A weekend at my convenience," she answered. "Huh, imagine that. Petunia's never offered me convenience before."

"Times-a-changing," Mary chirped as she returned to her breakfast.

* * *

"Come again?" Lily could only blink dumbly at that oddly calm boy.

"I said I'll come to dinner with you to meet Petunia and her fiancé," Sev restated, his words no less baffling then they had been the first time around.

 _Who are you and what have you done to Severus?_

That was the thought that passed through Lily's head when she took that letter nervously to Severus during their study period in preparation of a long, hard fight, only to have him accept without any struggle.

"I expect the weekend of our utmost convenience would be the one after the coming one. It gives us time to go through the bureaucracy of arranging personal leave as well as having the full moon pass for the month leaving us free of the need to spend the away day scratching our heads over that blasted potion," Sev continued, not at all concerned by how disturbingly reasonable he was being. "We'll be back before our duties for the Hallowe'en feast. I would be questioning the prefect body's capabilities if they cannot handle things without us for two days."

"Hold up. Hold up." Lily waved her hands about as she could waft away the confusion. "You're saying you're alright with coming with me to dinner with Petunia? You are, right? Just clarifying."

That baffling boy frowned. "Do you not want to?"

"I don't want to. Nobody should really want to. But I have to," Lily pouted.

"And my answer is the same," Severus answered, "because I assume you wouldn't have taken no for an answer."

"No." Lily felt a little stirring of guilt over her childish pout.

That boy gave a nod of agreement and returned to his Transfigurations homework. Since his return to her life Severus had changed noticeably in demeanour and mannerism, calmer and far more mature, sometimes disturbingly so. He was almost unrecognisable in moments like this when he defies all her expectations, all cool logic and detached, willing to endure the prospect of unpleasantness.

It made her feel like a child.

She pouted again as she stared down at her parchment and her patchy attempt at her homework. By comparison, Severus had already the word length comprised and was just going over with an editing spell. He was always the smarter and more hardworking of the two, but coupled with his inexplicably heightened maturity, Lily was beginning to wonder exactly what she brought to this relationship. It was ridiculously galling to think the only thing she had was being something pretty to look at.

"Do you think I'm childish, Sev?" She muttered to that deeply concentrating boy.

He replied without an upwards glance, "You'll grow out of it."

Lily tried her best not to take too much offence to his immediate and unsoftened response. "Why are you even marrying me if you thought so?" she muttered. "Are you really just marrying me because I'm pretty?"

His eyes darted upwards, wide and surprised. "Where in Merlin's name did that come from?"

She sighed quite loudly, eliciting some frowning glances from the Ravenclaws sitting further down the study table. As the head boy and girl, they weren't really setting much of an example in the study hall. "Sorry. Don't mind me. I'm being silly."

He set his homework aside, fixing his dark eyes upon her. "It's not like I wouldn't understand if you are having second thoughts, Lily."

"I'm not…" She grimaced as those Ravenclaws glared again. "How about we take this downstairs?"

He did not need further prompting as he put away his textbooks. His homework was the last to be stowed as he cast a quick drying charm over the fresh ink. Lily's homework didn't need the assistance as it had been a good solid fifteen minutes since she wrote anything upon the page.

In the darkened cosiness of the first-floor alcove their conversation continued once again, this time with a hint of distinct skittishness from her Slytherin fiancé. "Tell me what's on your mind," Severus commanded. At least she still had him beat in the art of small talk.

Lily sighed as she sunk down against the wall. "I'm feeling very childish. I spent all morning whining about having to go see Petunia again, and she's not been nearly half as awful to me as she has been to you."

"I'd worry if you actually enjoyed her company," he grumbled as he sat down close beside her.

"Like I said, childish," she mumbled as she leaned against his warm chest, ignoring the scratchiness of his thin frayed robes as she stretched against him. She could feel his heartbeat powerfully through his thin chest, a reminder for her to behave. "I just sometimes can't believe how much you've changed, Sev. I just… sort of feel like I've got to catch up."

"Don't be in a hurry to grow up," Sev muttered in her ear, his hand stroked down the length of her hair. She watched her own fiery strands trickle through his dextrous fingers. "I'll wait for you."

Lily could not help but roll her eyes. "You're older than me by less than a month. Don't make it sound like a decade."

She could feel a short sharp exhale of breath tickle her left ear, his equivalent of a bark of laughter. She took his hands and brought them about to envelope her, feeling his heart speed up and his body warm. With a sigh, the Gryffindor girl desisted, slipping out of his arms to give him a reprieve. "I suppose this is another difference between your maturity and mine."

Severus appeared to shake himself as he regained his composure. "I assure you this is absolutely a symptom of teenaged hormones. There is nothing overly mature about this."

"I meant your… willingness to keep your composure," she replied with a smile, widening with cheek. "Merlin knows you try harder than you have to."

She could feel his black eyes glaring unamused but unseen in the shadows of the alcove. "It's only difficult when you insist on making it so."

"I won't tell my dad," Lily said with a grin and a wink, only half-joking.

"And that is exactly what I mean," he muttered as he turned away, his face colouring visibly even in this lowered light. "A promise I make is a promise I keep. Stop testing me."

The Gryffindor girl let out an over dramatic sigh. "I still can't believe you took my dad's side on this. You must really want to get on his good side."

"I would prefer to stay on good terms with my future father in law, yes," Sev muttered, glancing away. "And I would personally prefer it too. I don't like the idea of… I don't want you to be too young."

"Excuse me?" Her ginger eyebrow arched in disbelief.

"You're too young," he growled again, defiantly. "You'd make me feel utterly immoral."

"You're one month older than me!" She tried her best to maintain a visage of outrage but the ridiculousness sent her into a fit of giggles.

Severus however, continued to look completely unamused. "Then we are both too young. Too rash and too foolish."

"Head over heart," Lily sighed. She reached her arms about her fiancé's torso, feeling him squirm uncomfortably under her touch, but this time she would not draw away. Sev was a distant soul but with no less warm a heart. A warmth he showed few and sparingly. However she was a girl who needed closeness and touch, no matter how deeply she loved and knew that she was loved. "I knew what I signed on for," she murmured into his warm fluttering chest. "I hope you did as well."

* * *

Though he had accepted the situation without any struggle, the prospect of spending the weekend with Petunia had soured Snape's mood dramatically. It was doubly worse that it was only two days before Hallowe'en. He kept trying to tell himself things were different now, that he needn't feel that weight so keenly anymore. His head could not win over his heart on this regard.

The guilt pecked again at the fringes of his mind, wearing down the calm he had built for himself. The anniversary of his greatest folly, and his insidious self-loathing peaked its head, refusing to let him forget it. This weekend was going to be miserable already without the need to spend it with a viper like Petunia.

He hadn't seen the harpy since he and Lily first parted ways. To her it would have only been two years, but for Snape it had been well over twenty. Despite that, he did not hold out much hope for the woman improving with time. One peak into that Potter boy's mind was enough to tell him the worst about that woman, how her twisted bitterness allowed her to treat her sister's only son. A son he had treated no better. Another nugget of guilt to Snape's heaving pile.

That was one confession he did not relish revealing to Lily again. One truth he did not wish to share. She had been quite annoyed with him from the assumption that he was merely apathetic to her child, when reality was that he was near antagonistic. Another terrible truth about him that she would need to know, one day. Another sin he would need to pay for. Was it more selfish of him to lay the burden of forgiveness upon Lily's kind heart? Or would it be fouler to hide his worst away?

It was in this dark guilt-ridden mood that James Potter had disturbed him in, collecting the Wolfsbane potion for the final time this moon cycle. James had taken the responsibility of collecting the potion solely upon himself of late, and until today Lily had been present as their in-between but, needing to undertake her patrol-work this evening. He could feel her through his ring, making her round on the floor above, her route never levelling to the floor his lab stood on.

She had been trying her hand at the final steps of the brew, proving herself once again an extremely capable student. She would have been easily his equal had they been of the same age and experience. A truth he could not reassure her with when she bemoaned his extensive abilities beyond her own.

"Thanks, Snape. That's all the doses," That bespectacled Dementor in boy's clothing chirped cheerily.

Snape waved him off without an upwards glance as he set about on clean up. He had hoped that feckless boy would take the hint and scuttle off and leave him in peace. He really was becoming an optimist.

"So…" the boy began, causing the potioneer to bristle at the sound of his mentally abrasive voice. "You and Lily are getting married?"

Snape took that moment to revel in his victory. "Humbling, isn't it, Potter?"

The boy, however, only offered a muted smiled. "I'm happy for you two. Good luck for the future."

That, however, stroked Snape in every wrong way. "Don't think me taken by your false well-wishes, Potter. I still remember you coveted her, and the lengths you were willing to go to turn her head."

"Okay, yes, I get it. I was abhorrent towards you," Potter mumbled as he stowed that small vial in his pocket. "And you'll never let me forget about it. But honestly, back then we were both shitty to each other. And I'm sorry for my part."

Snape's eyes narrowed as he turned his eyes to his scouring equipment, content to leave their conversation at that. When that bespectacled fop did not move from his spot, the potioneer snapped at him. "Leave!" he commanded with a gnashing glare, no uncertainty to his tone.

"Right. I will," Potter assured with raised placating palms. "But I kind of hope we can have another opportunity to talk. I don't want this to go on."

"Pity. I have no intention of making good," Snape hissed with a distasteful curl of his lips.

The boy shrugged. "We're not killing each other anymore. This is a promising start."

"Congratulations on growing up. Now get out of my face."

Those hazel eyes narrowed along with his patience. "How about you get off your high horse? It wasn't that long ago when you were a dick and a half as well. I flippin' didn't believe you when you changed sides. And believe me when I say you earned that mistrust."

"Tell you whatever you need to sleep better at night," Snape glowered.

"Just because you… grew out of your rough spots first doesn't mean my efforts are worthless! I get that we'll never be friends, but Lily's my friend and I'd rather not be at loggerheads with her husband!" That was the first time anyone had directly referred to Snape as Lily's husband. Yet it came from the lips of a man who had once taken that very role.

A knowledge that turned bitter any relish of his victory.

He hated that man, that boy. Everything that cretin had done to him. Every victory he took in that life that is no more.

And most of all, he hated the knowledge that Potter had provided better for Lily than Snape possibly could.

"You mock me with that very word," Snape hissed to the boy's confusion. He knew logically that it hadn't been meant the way it twisted in his mind. But logic could never overcome the hate he had for this boy before him. This boy who reminded him of every failure of his life, of every humiliation wrought upon him by him and his privileged friends. Who Lily had married in a life no longer, and who had been able to live up to her love.

"Wait…" Potter frowned behind the thick panes of his glasses. "Do you think I'm still after her or something?"

Snape did not answer, was unable to answer through his sudden uncontrollable bitterness.

"I'm not. I swear that I'm not." He continued. "Marlene is my girlfriend and I'm not going to betray what we have. She'd kick my arse."

With a glower, Snape turned away. His logical mind assured him of the earnest of those words, but his spite wished the boy to cease. He felt petty, he should not feel petty. He did not _deserve_ to feel petty. This was the boy who tormented him, after all. The boy who assaulted him and stripped him of his dignity.

Too many years of antagonism. Too deep ran his hatred. Not even the passage of two decades past this boy's death had cured Snape of this seething anger. This contempt he had for this boy whose life was handed to him on a silver platter. The boy who could have had any woman he wanted, but chose to pursue a course that would fracture a seven-year friendship and take the only good thing Snape had in his life.

But most of that fault laid squarely with Snape. That much was certain to him now. Now he knew that Lily's ultimatum had never been final, it had always hinged upon his own choice. That there had always been a path for him by Lily's side, had he not been so foolish and selfish to see it.

The animosity he had for Potter, the grudges they held towards one another, the core reason for it all had been removed. But even with that regret subverted, and mountains of shattered pride behind them. Snape could not find it in him to let it go. He knew the fault was his own, but his hatred for this one boy, this boy who made his emotions flare and hatred seethe, it refused to abate.

Though his mind told him the war was over and won, his heart would not let go.

"I get that we'll never be friends," that infuriating boy continued heatedly, "but I don't want to be enemies. But don't let the bad blood between us affect her. I'm dating her best friend, after all. We both want to continue to be in her life."

Rage bubbled forth from the once-jilted Professor. "And had it been the other way around? Would I had been given the same courtesy?"

"Of course!" Potter answered, to which Snape scoffed. The advantage of knowing the alternate path meant he knew exactly how far that courtesy extended. For Snape had never been part of Lily's life again.

But again, that had been his own doing.

"It was never my call to make, whether or not you're in Lily's life," Snape muttered, hating ever concession he made. "Whatever _friendship_ you have with her is… you needn't bother me with it."

He hated the idea of Lily associating with this boy. His tormenter. His most hated nemesis. And her husband, once upon a time. But Snape was already taking a large part of her life away from her, he could not bear to take more.

Potter shrugged. "Well obviously. She'd probably not be too amused if you told her who she can and cannot see," he muttered, a sentiment Snape could get behind. The bespectacled boy ran his fingers through his hair in an agitated motion. "But… She's a soft-hearted girl. You know what I mean right? I mean you'd have to, you've known her for longer than I have. How the heck do you think she feels each time we spite each other? You think it's not going to gnaw at her that her friends are at odds with her husband?"

Snape hated that boy but he could not deny the truth of his words. He was able to see so clearly the barbs upon Lily's heart, knew so well how much his antagonism with her friends would hurt her. He knew this, but had made no effort on her behalf to repair this.

And to be told so clearly so by this reckless preening self-serving boy. This boy who had his chance with her in another life. A life ended short for the both of them.

He would never know of the second chance Snape took from him.

"This changes nothing between us, Potter," Snape growled, tasting bitterness of the concession he was to give. "But I will not have Lily pay for our history. I'll temper my hostility. I expect courtesy in return."

A muted smile edged upon Potter's lips. "I suppose that's the best I could hope for." He stretched his hand out to seal their truce. Snape suppressed his sigh but glowered openly as he took the offered hand.

Making peace with the trauma that two lives could not erase.

* * *

The weekend came with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. On the one hand Lily always looked forward to her return home, especially now fully qualified in apparition and needn't suffer through travel time by train. Though her father rarely saw eye to eye now days, she still loved him dearly, and with his support of her engagement with Severus their worlds realigned again. On the other hand, she did not look forward to seeing Petunia, or the man she was about to marry. What was his name? Vernon? If he was anything like her sister, Lily already knew they would not get on.

The letter had already somewhat set the tone of their meeting, stating that they wished to get this 'freakish business' out of the way. Whatever this was about, it did not seem reconciliation was on the menu.

But naively, she could not help but hope. Hope that there was a path forward for the them both. Though they were now constantly at loggerheads, they hadn't always been so. As children they had been inseparable, as close as two sisters could be, before magic and jealousy had torn them apart.

Lily was prepared to work for it, but in this plan lay a problem. Severus had never got on with Petunia. Lily could deal with a lot from her sister, but historically Sev had never been very good at turning the other cheek.

She paced back and forth before Sev's room now, housed still in the guest room that had once been Petunia's bedroom. She had already spent an hour getting ready, doing up her hair, powdering the freckles from her nose and painting her lips into a slightly darker pink. The dress she picked was a slim-fitting semi-formal one piece dress. She knew her sister would comment if she didn't make at least an effort.

That went doubly so for Sev, and she hoped the effort hadn't sent him escaping for school ground. She hoped he wasn't still troubled because her father had purchased a suit for him. Her father had it tailored not long after finding out about their engagement, having it crafted from the measurements Lily had procured from Madam Gladrags. It was honestly optimistic of her father to think that his youngest daughter would be having a muggle wedding. On further thought, did he even know how to put on a suit? The muggle clothing he had experience with weren't exactly exemplary specimens of this category.

"Sev?" she called through the door with a light knock to the wooden panel. "How's everything going?" From beyond the door she could barely hear movement, worrying her suspicions. "I'm coming in alright?"

"Hold on!" His voice suddenly sounded, just as she yanked open the door. For a moment, Lily feared she barged in on him half-decent again, but it turned out his embarrassment was not due to that. Severus stood, clad in a formal, and very muggle black dinner jacket and slacks, glowering with embarrassment having been caught in front of the mirror, testing his hair in a ponytail.

"Oh, my goodness!" Lily giggled to his further glowing displeasure.

Without another word he tore the cord from his hair and proceeded to shake the strands back into their messy state.

"No stop." Lily glided to his side and collected his hair back into that bundle. "You looked very elegant!" His glare bespoke his disbelief. "No, seriously you do."

Severus conceded to her ministrations, seating himself in front of the vanity mirror and scowling into his reflection. He muttered something under his breath that she didn't catch. "Come again?" She beckoned as she re-tied his hair, adjusting the tightness of the band at the base of the bundle.

"I said it makes my nose too obvious," he grumbled aloud, sending Lily into another fit of giggles.

"What this one?" She leaned over him and planted a kiss upon the bridge of his long and prominent nose. That brought a smile to his dour reflection.

Taking the bundle of his hair, Lily split it in two, leaving thick strands sitting in equal portions on either side of his head.

"What are you doing?" He frowned as she set aside the remaining hair together in a loose bundle, tying it as low as possible upon the base of his neck.

"Styling," she replied as she separated the strands to give the loose hair a casual messy look about it. A sigh escaped Severus' thin downturned lips but not a word of complaint passed them. "Try not to enjoy this too much," she whispered into his ear, causing the corners of his frowning lips to lift ever so slightly.

Her fingers trailed from his hairline to trace the contour of his temple, and down the sharp turn of his cheekbone. He closed his eyes as he leaned in to her touch. She obliged him, bringing her fingers softly down his narrow jawline, tracing the smooth ridge of his angled chin.

"Have you ever thought about growing a beard?" she asked suddenly, jolting Severus out of his contentment. "I'm just curious about how you'd look with some scruff," she muttered in explanation to his narrowing eyes.

"No facial hair," he told her sternly, turning away with a self-conscious grimace. "I do not permit it in my laboratory. Or long sweeping sleeves. They get filthy and contaminate the workstation."

Ever the pragmatic. Such a spoilsport. "I'll bet you can't even grow one anyway," Lily quipped with a cheek filled grin. But his glowering flush told her she hit a little too close to the mark.

She threw her arms about his shoulders, her hands crossing about his chest. She pressed her cheek to his, preventing him from turning away from the mirror. "Clean and smooth is nice as well. You don't need a beard."

His thin lips twitched upwards into a tight grimace. "If you've seen my attempts at a beard you'd be glad I don't grow one easily. It comes up patchy and uneven. I wind up looking like a half-plucked cockerel."

Laughter burst forth from Lily's lips before she could stop herself. She clamped her hands across her lips mid gasp, fearing she might have upset his delicate esteem. To her relief, and surprise, he actually looked rather pleased with himself.

"Look who's learned to not take himself so seriously." Lily giggled as she tightened her embrace about his shoulder, squeezing him tight.

"One last question if I may," he muttered in her ear. Lily leaned back as he procured a length of silken tie, still twisted about in a strange knot as if attempts had been made and met with failure. "For the life of me I have no notion what this is for apart from strangling myself."

* * *

This would be the most uncomfortable thing Snape had ever done. Not soul crushingly awful as some of the atrocities he had committed under his own delusion, and later in service to the light, but not far down that ladder.

The dinner was in London, not an easy venue to attend by travel from the Midlands let alone the Scottish highlands. Trust Petunia to elect a meeting point to her own convenience to the detriment of all else. Though it was but a simple affair for Lily and him to Apparate down to the city, but not to her father, Mr Evans.

Lily had offered to side-along Apparate her dad down to London with them but he had told his daughter rather solemnly that this dinner was about repairing their bond as sisters, and he would rather not impose himself as a barrier to their communication. Lily later told him that it was far more likely her father chose to stay home to watch his space stories.

Snape privately thought his declining of the invitation could be a good thing. The seemingly young wizard had firsthand experience what side-along Apparition felt like and didn't think a man of muggle-sensibilities would appreciate the sensation.

The moment he entered that muggle restaurant, however, he began regretting the lack of authoritarian barrier between him and that harpy of a woman, Petunia. He hadn't seen that woman in well over twenty years, blissfully losing contact with her at approximately the same time he fell out with Lily. Yet even with that many years as a buffer, one glance at her thin horse-like face was enough to dredge up prickly memories of childhood association.

As he and Lily approached, that vile woman turned her reproachful notice upon their entrance. "Couldn't even be bothered to turn up on time, could you?" Were the first words of greeting from off her acid tongue. Any hope of setting a civil reconciliatory tone dashed before they even found their seats.

"Now, Petunia. Traffic can get cluttered at this time of the afternoon," the unfeasibly large man sitting beside her said in a surprisingly reasonable tone. "Vernon Dursley." He introduced himself with an offer of his gigantic mitt of a hand.

"Snape," he offered as he took it in a single firm shake, Dursley's small beady eyes glancing over Snape's continence, lingering judgementally on his long-bundled hair. He didn't offer his first name, and the rotund man did not ask. He never offered a handshake to Lily.

"You can tell a lot about a man from a single handshake," Dursley declared as he settled his frame into his squeakily protesting seat. "Like yours are covered in calluses. You dress smartly but I can tell you are a working man. Not the kind one would expect to own a car that can bring its occupants to dinner on time."

Snape could already tell he was going to hate this man.

"We're both still students," Lily quickly cut between them, no doubt sensing her fiancé's delicate patience strain.

The massive man's eyebrows darted upwards as Petunia's lips pursed as if in disapproval. It was as if they were chastising a faux pau that Snape wasn't aware of. Or Lily by the look of muted confusion upon her face.

Petunia however, supplied the reason with great disdainful relish. "Don't disrupt the men while they're talking Lily. That is ill cultured of you."

Snape felt annoyance twist in his heart. He had forgotten about the male-centric muggle culture of this period in time. If he was going to be forced to make small talk with that grating man he had hoped for some assistance from Lily. Small talk wasn't his forte in the best of times.

That galling moment was thankfully saved by the waiter taking their orders. Dursley heartily and very vocally expressed loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear that he would be picking up the cheque. The preening arrogance that reminded Snape so much of that hated Potter, perhaps it wasn't blood alone that imprinted upon his son.

"So, Snape," the man continued as if Lily wasn't there. "Petunia tells me the both of you are people of… peculiar… culture."

"Indeed. One could see it that way," Snape answered cautiously, wondering exactly how much of their secret society Petunia had revealed to this blustering exhibitionist man, and how much of a violation of the Statute of Secrecy this could potentially become. He remembered seeing this man in the memories of the Potter child; Petunia had indeed married this walrus and together they became his unwilling foster carers. Neglectful, near abusive foster carers. By which approximation meant knowledge of their world had been kept in reasonable cover and care.

"Oh yes, we can do magic," Lily chirped, not half as concerned about legal repercussions that came with her words. Petunia's eyes narrowed as she pursed her lips once again. A jealous harpy to the end, that woman.

Dursley, however, appeared surprisingly unconcerned. "Well go on then. Show me some magic."

"One doesn't just perform on command. There are protocols to heed," Snape muted the hiss within his voice. The Ministry office for the Improper Use of Magic would probably not appreciate showboating in the middle of a crowded muggle restaurant.

The bulky man sat back in his groaning chair, seemingly content to let things go. "At the very least you are a man of discretion. I can appreciate that if not your lifestyle choice."

Snape suppressed the urge to hex this man and said not a word as the waiter approached with refreshments for the table. White wine for the table to pair with Petunia's filet of bass, but two glasses for only she and her fiancé.

"Can't serve alcohol to minors. You understand, Lily," Petunia stated with a smug smile as if being ahead in age was a boasting achievement. "Vernon ordered you two something else instead. "Some kind of American beverage. The waiter said it was popular with children." Two glasses of alarmingly dark liquid were set upon the table, their fizzing state was setting off alarm bells within the potion master's mind.

Ignoring the obvious jibe, Lily brought hers up for a taste. There was something to be said about a Gryffindor sense of self-preservation. "Ooooh. I like how the bubbles feel." She grinned as she returned for another sip. "Try it Sev. It's like… a very light version of butter beer, but with herbs."

By that description alone, Snape knew he was going to hate it before the glass touched his lips and they turned down in revulsion. The bubbles played on his tongue in what he was certain was meant to be a whimsical texture, but it only served to irritate him as the sweetness of the offending liquid coated his mouth. "I prefer water," he muttered, offending his host's no doubt pre-set sensibilities.

"I'll take it if you don't want it," Lily chirped as she swiped Snape's glass from him and left him her one, already filled with conjured water. She was getting good at this wordless wandless business.

"Where on earth did that water come from?" The heavy man leaned into the sight, his heavy brows frowned with slow deliberation. Snape suppressed another sigh, it was like this man had already forgotten that magic was a thing.

Lily however obliged by touching her finger to the rim of Snape's glass, creating a webbing of frost around the vessel before the muggle man's beady eyes. She winked and pressed a finger to her lips as the large man's eyes widened in disturbed fascination, and Petunia's expression soured in jealous revulsion.

With a gentle touch to her wrist, Snape stopped her. "Caution before muggle eyes, Lily. There are laws."

Dursley quickly gathered his wits. "Those tricks are well and good, but do they make you employable? What kind of a job could you be setting yourself up for? A man employed is a man worth anything after all."

At the very least that sentiment was one Snape could get behind. "My career path likely lies within the field of potioneering." The muggle man could only stare blankly as if he had just speaking in tongues.

"It's like… a chemist," Lily supplied helpfully.

With a judgemental glare the massive man took a gulp of his wine. "A respectable career path provided you could actually make it. Speaking of the future is just as well as talking fantasy." Snape's eyes narrowed at the snide put down, feeling the insult twist his self-control. "While I myself am already well established within my employment. Junior Executive at Grunnings. The top producers of drills in all of London."

"It's a kind of tool, if your kind understands what tools are," Petunia supplied, intending in every way to sound condescending. "My Vernon's already so well established. And look how handsome he is. So robust, like a real man should be."

Now that was a jab at Snape's slight form if ever there was one. He suppressed the glower and sat simmering in silent hatred of this harpy woman. No doubt revelling over this rare victory over her sister.

"I'm glad you're happy, but don't for a moment think so little of Sev," Lily retorted with rising heat. "He's so much more than you give him credit for, or ever gave him credit for."

That unpleasant woman gave a sniff of derision. "At the very least he's now dressed like a human being, and not in mismatched rags that isn't fit for a dog bed."

"Excuse me?" Lily made as if to stand but Snape's hand flew from his lap to brace against her shoulder. His temper was stoked but at the very least his self-control did not shake. "His family is poor. You have no right!" Lily continued, albeit with restraint.

But her words only caused a look of smugness to touch the features of those two unpleasant people. "Poor? His father's a welfare leeching alcoholic. The very dregs of society."

Snape interjected before things could escalate any further. "In that we finally find agreement, Petunia. My father is filth. I do not plan to associate with him any further."

That statement actually seemed to impress that bitter woman's equally dislikeable fiancé. "Here, here. If society can be bettered, it's upon the backs of those that wish to do better than their predecessors."

"Employment as a street sweeper is already leaps and bounds above his father." Petunia could not help but get one last jibe in before she returned to her wine, so smugly satisfied.

Snape could feel Lily tense again, he could see her hands clench upon the tablecloth before her. She could hex those two without a wand or a word, but she would not fool those in Magical Law Enforcement.

"Lily," he murmured in warning as he slipped his hand into hers. He felt her calm as her fingers traced the form of his ring. But that brought Petunia's eye straight to the offending trinket.

"What is this? Jewellery on a man? I suppose this is another ridiculous trend from your ridiculous school?" she harped still riding the high from her victory of unpleasantness.

Lily however seemed to be quite pleased at the turn of the topic. "Magical engagement rings actually," she answered, as calm and casually as one would.

Immediately her sister's face lit up with outrage. As if this announcement was an affront to her very being. "I knew it! You could not let me be with my happiness!" She stood as if to draw her long thin figure up in a menacing way, towering over her with a neck too long to be completely natural. "You have to upstage me at every turn, you- you- you attention seeking freakof a… _freak_!"

"I didn't get engaged because of you!" Lily retorted just as hotly, but remained seated and uncowed.

"Now Petunia. You're making a scene," Dursley chastised lightly with a firm tug of her hand, drawing her almost forcibly back to her seat.

"But she does this every time. Every time she snatches the limelight away from me! _Every time_!"

"With what? Silver rings?" Dursley simpered in what must be to his mind in a loving manner. "Your ring is gold and diamonds my darling." He took her hand and held it to show off the gaudy piece of gem encrusted jewellery. "And your husband is this manly hunk of a model pillar of society. While she's marrying this… unmanly whip of an… unemployable spawn of an alcoholic. You have won in this regard, in this most important race in life."

Petunia calmed, an equally simpering smile spread across her lips. "Oh, my darling Vernon."

"THAT IS IT!" Lily slammed the table, startling everyone sitting at the table. "I have had it with you! Ever since we got here you have been nothing short of nasty! Severus is a wonderful man, and all you've been doing for the past half hour is mock him for his financial and family situation!" Snape laid a calming hand upon her back but it seemed nothing was going to stop this tirade. "Well I've got news for you Petunia! Your fiancé's fat!" And with that, she spun about and stormed out of the restaurant. Snape dropped his napkin and followed her out, not even sparing even a glance for their hosts, glowing purple with outrage.

In the autumn chill beyond the restaurant doors, Snape found Lily leaning heavily against the wall. Night had fallen but in the bustle of the city, darkness had a far weakened grip. Even without the streetlamps, the light from the establishments still open at this time was enough to bathe the streets in a golden glow and catch the shimmer of tears upon Lily's cheek.

Snape said not a word as he stripped off his dinner jacket and draped it about her shoulders. A grateful smile touched her painted lips as she tried to subtly wipe away her tears. "Look at me. It was you that got wronged but I'm the one crying."

"If I cried every time I got insulted…" Snape muttered, eliciting a watery smile from the emotional girl.

"This went about as badly as it possibly could have huh?" Lily asked, a rhetorical question Snape hoped because he could not find it in himself to answer. "I just wished… I don't know… I had hoped…" Her words trailed off, punctured by a hiccup. "She's not going to speak to me ever again, is she?"

With a gentle but firm hand, Snape lead her off the wall and into the warmth of his arms. He did not know how to alleviate her fears, he was unpractised in this arena of words. "…Do you want me to take you somewhere you haven't seen before?" He muttered in a low voice, hoping to lead her from her tears.

A smile touched her ruby lips, easily swayed by the thought of distraction. "…We really should go back though and try to fix this. I mean we ordered already. We can't saddle them with all that."

Snape's thin lips turned in a sneer, hidden in the deep shadows upon his face. "From the size of that man, I doubt our orders will go to waste."

A giggle burst forth as a hand swatted at him in amused chastisement.

* * *

A/N: Frequenters of Pottermore might have noticed this is the mirror of the Lily/James dinner with Petunia/Vernon except with a different conclusion.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 30th June 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 37: Tales of Dark Dreams**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	37. Tales of Dark Dreams

**Chapter 37: Tales of Dark Dreams**

Of all the things first in the morning, a phone call from Petunia was the last thing Lily expected. She was woken up midmorning by her father's hollering voice and asked downstairs to the phone in the living room.

Bleary-eyed and half asleep, Lily stumbled downstairs. It was already midmorning but it was the weekend, and as per tradition the Gryffindor girl had a long lie in. And as per tradition, she hadn't bothered to get changed, but from her father's immediate displeasure and subsequent march back up to her room, apparently her cotton pyjamas was too outrageous to wear about the house. If it was, Lily couldn't see it. It had a top and a bottom, long sleeves on both ends, it covered her far better than her summer dressing gown, or even her sleeveless cotton dress.

After being stuffed into a thick bathrobe, Lily was finally allowed within the vicinity of the telephone in the hallway. She stuck her tongue out as she passed the kitchen, eliciting an unamused glare from her father and an adorably shy aversion of eyes from Severus. It seems even fully covering sleep garbs was enough to stir his fancy.

Bracing herself as she lifted the receiver to her ear, Lily heard the voice she had both been expecting and dreading.

"Took you long enough to take the call," that nasally voice of her sister complained.

Lily sighed, gathering her patience for this verbal encounter. No doubt she was to be sourly reprimanded on her conduct the previous night. "I know, Petunia. And I'm sorry." She took a moment to ground herself and swallow her pride. "For last night as well. I got so mad, but I shouldn't have blown up at you like that."

"As you should, that was highly unsightly," Petunia snipped over the phone.

Counting silently to ten, Lily reigned in her temper. _She only says those nasty things because she's jealous. She doesn't hate me._ After Severus spent the evening by a cliff-lined coastline, coaxing her back into patience with his disturbingly mature outlook on the matter, Lily felt she was as ready as she would ever be to act the adult with her sister.

"And I'm sorry for that. Can you find it in your heart to forgive me?" the Gryffindor ground out. Her sister was probably enjoying lording it over her.

She could almost hear those lips purse in smug satisfaction. "Vernon wasn't pleased with your behaviour last night. You are lucky he's such a gentleman that he's willing to forgive the emotional outbursts of women. You were lucky Severus was so well behaved last night. I doubt Vernon would have looked upon his black roots so kindly if he had acted like them."

It was honestly such a relief to smooth things over with Petunia that Lily let that lash of the sharp tongue slide. "I did tell you Sev has changed. It wasn't luck."

"Cleaned up and dressed appropriately he almost resembles a human, somewhat," Petunia replied with a sniff. That was possibly the kindest thing she's ever said about Severus.

Lily couldn't help but smile. "Glad you approve."

Unexpectedly, Petunia's reply came close to concern. "If you can't tell you're worth more than him then that's your problem, Lily. I've already said my part, it isn't my fault you don't listen."

"Didn't know you cared so much," Lily replied rather tartly. Trying her best not to take too much offence on Severus' behalf.

There was a long moment of silence before Petunia finally replied. "Perhaps it's for the best that you chose someone… like you. I just can't imagine there aren't better options in your ridiculous school."

That was possibly the warmest, most sisterly thing Petunia's said to her in years. "Aww, you do care. Love you Tuney."

With one last disapproving sniff, Petunia declared, "Good day, Lily." And hung up without waiting for a like reply.

Lily hung up the receiver and returned to the kitchen with a spring in her step.

"Chirpy after talking with Petunia. This is a first," Severus noted through a sip of bitter black coffee.

"Turned out yesterday wasn't such a disaster after all," Lily replied, pulling up a plate and summoning two slices of brown bread from its packet. The slices turned end over end and landed on her plate white and toasted.

Her father glanced up from his paper. "Thought you said last night went fine?"

Lily snorted as she smeared marmalade down her crusty toast. "You actually believed me?"

With a sigh her father withdrew back behind his shield of static muggle news, grumbling loudly about where he went wrong with his daughters.

Grinning over mischief made, Lily turned to Severus. "You wouldn't believe it but it was Petunia on the line. And she as much as told me she approved of our engagement." She might have overstated things a little, but for them any good news was worth a little celebration.

Severus lifted one dark thin brow. "That is surprising," He returned cautiously. "Are you certain she isn't simply pleased that she's finally triumphed over you in an area?"

Lily paused mid-chew, her eyes narrowing on her fiancé. "How could you possibly think you're worse than Vernon Dursley?" She muttered through the cover of her hand, shielding him from the spray of crumbs.

"I'm simply saying that she probably does," he replied tersely as he hid inside his coffee mug again.

Lily swallowed her bite and paused to think about it. "You know what? That sounds exactly like what she'd think."

"Please, kids," her father grumbled as he emerged from behind his paper, "I want to see some peace inside this household before I go to the grave."

"Hey I'm not the one slinging dirty spells," Lily muttered, quite certain that the magical idiom could translate in his muggle mind.

Her father sighed as he slunk back behind his paper.

* * *

Though one could not call dinner with Petunia a relaxing break, it at least served to distract Snape from the shadows in his mind. A brief break in the illusion of familial bliss, a moment where he could step out of himself and pretend, pretend he was someone else. Someone happy.

Stepping back through the gates of the school, the eve of Hallows loomed back onto the forefront of his mind, strangling him from within. His hand intruded upon Lily's as they strode up the path to the castle. She glanced up at him, smiling at his touch, but slowly trickling away as she noticed his tension. Snape took a calming breath, reminding himself firmly that she's alive, that she's beside him.

"Something wrong, Sev?" Lily asked. He did not respond, instead tightening his fingers around hers.

A hint of worry touched her brows as her smile faltered, but didn't disappear completely. "You don't want to come back to school either huh?"

"I'm not looking forward to the chaos of festivities, no," Snape answered sourly.

Lily seemed almost relieved. "So that's where your tension is coming from. Yeah Halloween prep is as bad as it gets, but I'm pretty experienced with this. Anything you don't know how to handle, leave it to me." She tugged on their entwined hands, pulling him closer to her side. She felt his fingers tighten against hers, her cool ring pressing hard against his skin.

For the moment, she seemed to be satisfied with the reason he gave. He saw no reason to worry her overly with the complexities of his mental state. There were already enough lies trying to keep himself steady in her life; there was no need to trouble her with his.

They hadn't so much as set foot into the hallway when a prefect suddenly began accosting them. "Five volunteers from Hufflepuff. We're short this year," the tall Hufflepuff prefect announced as he strode beside the Head boy and girl with deliberately shortened steps.

Though Lily was not short for a girl, Snape was still noticeably short for a boy. At the age of seventeen Snape was still not fully grown, however he would not get that much taller than he was now. Even as a Professor he only got to enjoy five years of height domination before those students began to shoot past his eye-level.

Not that it ever dissipated his level of intimidation.

"Only? five?" Lily seemed to reel from the revelations. "But they're usually the highest contributing House!"

"Sorry. We just couldn't drum up support. We're usually good for it," the Hufflepuff replied sheepishly. "The first years are easily spooked… by our Head Boy."

Snape arched an unamused brow as Lily accepted that statement on face value. She sighed, a long defeated sound. "I know it's not your fault, or your House's."

"But perhaps I would suggest they grow a spine," Snape snapped, annoyed he was singled out as the reason.

He felt Lily tug hard on his in silent chastisement. "We'll have to make up the numbers from within Gryffindor then," Lily reasoned, a little too optimistically in Snape's opinion.

"Because they're traditionally so generous with their time and social contributions," Snape muttered scathingly.

Lily dropped his hand and immediately rounded on him. "I'm trying not to fly apart at the seams. If you have a great idea, I'm all ears."

Suppressing the urge to retreat a step backwards, Snape replied, "I believe Slytherins can be… encouraged to participate."

An uncharitable snort came from the Hufflepuff boy. "And you lot are so much more known for your generosity with time and contributions."

"No," Snape conceded. "But we are rational. And most of all, for a certain portion of them, they have something to prove. I will dress it up as an opportunity and there would be no doubt it will be answered."

Lily leaned back, her brows arched in an appraising look that clashed with her threatening smile. "Well then, Mr Snape. I await your miracle."

* * *

She wouldn't have believed it if she hadn't seen it. The decoration committee the next day was filled with more green robes then had ever been seen in the volunteering history of Hogwarts. At least two dozen Slytherins sat at the decoration stations in the Great Hall, and another half-dozen was working with the fifth and sixth years in the Transfiguration's Classrooms.

Sev took charge in there, as a Head Boy should, and though hesitant at first at the idea of allowing him to tackle such a large project alone for his first time, she had relented. But from the speed at which the sack of bats came to the Hall, she needn't have worried.

"Feisty lot this year," Hagrid announced cheerily as he unbundled the roiling sack.

Remus looked a little worried. "I hope it won't be a repeat of fourth year." By which he was referring to that incident whereby Fabian and Gideon had volunteered so graciously for the transfiguration roll and wound up transforming half those bats into their vampiric counterparts. It resulted in a messy few hours of clean up and delayed the feast for over an hour.

"Sev was in charge. I doubt anyone could pull the fast one on him," Lily replied, a lot more confidently than she felt.

But it seemed she worried for naught as the swarm of bats ascended to the rooftops, a strange order about their chaotic motions. Severus' hallmarks of discipline all over his transfigured charge.

With a wave goodbye to Hagrid, Lily turned back to the business of her timetable. "It's safe to put up the pumpkins!" Lily announced loudly to the stockpiling table.

"How are things progressing?" Sev's commanding voice announced his arrival. In he strode, raggedy cloak now fitted snugly about his shoulders in a feeble attempt to protect himself from the cooling season.

He did not direct the question to anybody in particular but voices immediately rose in response. "Pumpkins are almost done," answered Rawkas as beside him Proud floated the carved gourds into the rafters.

"Table decorations are done,." Amanda Bones supplied as she busied herself with the wall-hangings. She wasn't one to hang up her wand when her part was done.

Remus stepped back from his spider webbing of the chandeliers. "Your timetabling streamlined the entire process," he complimented generously. "I have never seen a Hallowe'en go so smoothly."

"It hadn't been my timekeeping skills," Lily admitted sheepishly. She had no idea when Severus had found the time but without even being asked for it he had produced a scroll of drafted work detail. Never had the Head Girl seen a timetabling written so meticulously, with even redundancy measures in place for plans awry, and an estimated time projection for each portion of a project complete. It honestly was hard to believe this was the first time Severus participated in a community project, or had any experience in a leadership role.

"Who would have thought Snape would take to being Head Boy so quickly, and well," Remus offered as he conjured a web pattern between two of the floating pumpkins.

Lily couldn't help but agree. "I honestly feel like the less experienced of us two."

"Think it's a translation of his potioneering skills in real world applications?" Remus asked in his thoughtful way.

Lily considered it. "I suppose it does make sense. Many of the most advanced potions, such as you know… that brew, requires crazy time management skills. He's a natural at that stuff." She glanced over at Sev, lending a hand with the hanging of self-rattling bones down the wall tapestries. Working quite efficiently with that Hufflepuff Amelia, not at all as uncomfortably as Severus had suggested.

Remus gave one last wisp of a spider trail as he stepped back to take a breather beside his friend. "You're a hell of a potioneer too I hear. And far more of a people person. You're still my favourite student leader." Sentiments to sooth her no doubt obvious disquiet.

Lily rolled her eyes at that transparent flattery. "One wonders why you're still single, Monsieur Moony." To which the boy hid a smile and shuffled awkwardly on the spot. Lily turned her smiling eyes back to the boy taking charge of work progress. Her boy. "I guess I just hadn't expected him to… I mean he doesn't get on with people," she muttered, turning away from her fellow Gryffindor prefect. "I didn't think he'd take to his… governing responsibilities... so well."

Remus stood shoulder to shoulder with Lily as they both stared at the strange sight of Severus directing and students obeying. "He's still full of surprises huh?"

"He's incredible," Lily agreed, her lips turning upwards into a grin.

The Prefect leaned back as they watched the bustle of their duties wrap up, on schedule and without fuss. "I can sort of see what you see in him now. He's smart, capable, and the change he's made in that House of his..."

Lily arched a ginger brow. "Back off Remus, I saw him first."

With a hearty laugh the sandy haired boy raised his hands and took a deliberate step back.

* * *

The sky painted across the ceiling of the Great Hall was charmed this night with gloom and jagged strikes of lightning, adding that final touch of atmosphere of spooky decoration. Lily smiled at the bright-eyed looks of wonder that touched the faces of those first years, feeling warmth at the knowledge that her work had contributed to it.

She could still remember what it was like, the first time she had sat in their place. The magic of Hogwarts had been still a strange and mystical place, and so too this strange custom that the wizarding world celebrated. Now the magical world felt so much like home that she found it odd that the muggle world didn't celebrate this day. Instead they wait another five days to set a straw man on fire. Barmy, that.

Taking a slice of pumpkin pie, Lily set about gathering a plate of moderate sweets. This feast was all about dessert, so she was excused for indulging. With a quick glance across the hall she spotted Severus sitting utterly miserable with what looked like only the pie filling upon his plate and a small pile of apple cores and discarded caramel shells. He was a miserable soul when it came to sweets.

"I love dessert and all, but not for an entire meal," Marlene grumbled beside her as she gathered her plate of fudge and clotted cream alongside a slice of treacle tart.

"Aww look whose growing up," Lily poked teasingly as she spooned boiled candy straight from a Pumpkin-bowl to garnish her slice of pie.

Mary matched her creative gusto by peppering her trifle with beads of chocolate candy and breaded cake bars. "Not such a bad thing staying young for a while longer," the girl cheerfully piped from across the table. "Very soon we won't be able to eat half of this without growing folds."

"I feel like half of that can be avoided if you just got up and out once in a while." Marlene offered in a reasonably non-confrontational tone.

"Why don't you bite me?" Mary offered, in just as polite a tone. Everyone knew of the muggle girl's long standing aversion to the notion of sports and exercise. She cited her muggle brothers as the reason, having been constantly force to play keeper in a muggle sport called 'football' during childhood. Apparently projectiles punted towards her face made for some traumatic moments.

Pandora paid little heed to the feast, having dragged a textbook to the table. Her spoon made the occasional trip to her bowl of strawberry mouse, and even more occasionally returned with an uneven bite. Lily had lent her that book on entwining Charms work, the very same one she had been gifted by Slughorn the Christmas prior. That girl spent almost every waking moment, not dedicated to homework, working relentlessly on the pursuit of a workable one-handed enchantment technique.

Lily had offered to set up a one-on-one answer and question opportunity with Severus, to which the studious girl responded gratefully, but hesitantly. _"I'm not going to waste both of our times with questions a textbook can answer. I'll meet him when I've done my appropriate research and know what I need to ask."_

She was the only girl Lily ever knew who would study to ask questions.

Beside her sat Susan, chattering away quite happily to the obviously not listening girl. "-most graceful man on all of campus. How could anyone find fault in those cheekbones?" Talking again about Urquart no doubt. That seemed to be the general direction of that girl's obsession in recent days.

"What is it with Gryffindor girls and Slytherins now days?" Sirius muttered from three seats down. He was never too far from James, and he in turn was never too far from Marlene.

"Cutting into your supply?" Mary quipped in a surprisingly snarky way, especially for her.

"Oh I'm never under threat," the cocky boy replied with a wink, and the two grinned over the exchange in a baffling manner. Susan sighed at the exchange but oddly made no disparaging remark about the comradery between those two most intimacy-liberal creatures.

Marlene ignored the two and leaned in towards Susan. "So you going to make any moves on your fancy-boy?"

Susan looked as if she took affront at that notion. "Certainly not! A gentleman should always make the first move, it'd be boorish for the lady to do so." So much like Petunia in the most irritating ways.

"You know he's a very private person," Lily muttered, which was her way of saying she doubted Urquart would return such interest from a known unrepentant gossip. "He refused Gryffindor during his hung sorting to get away from our nosey lot."

"Almost a Gryffindor huh?" James muttered thoughtfully. "Knew he seemed alright."

"Kind of opposite to you, Padfoot," Marlene offered, sharing the same nickname affinity as her boyfriend.

Sirius wrinkled his nose. "Nah, nothing like me. Never got a hung sorting. Got tossed into Gryffindor the moment that hat touched my head."

"Seemed to recall you got a hung sorting, Pandora," Lily directed to her studious friend.

The girl didn't appear to be paying attention but after a moment she answered. "It was Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. It's always Gryffindor or Ravenclaw in my family."

"You would'a suited Ravenclaw," Marlene offered. "Not that we aren't thrilled you chose us."

To which Pandora glanced up from her text and smiled. "What is curiosity without the courage to pioneer?"

"What's the trait of a hung Gryffindor-Slytherin then?" Susan asked, still preoccupied with the man of her fancy.

"It means he's brave, but will not let you know why," Pandora answered with a surprising amount of bristle in her voice. "I would ask you not to try."

That got everyone's attention. "I thought you rejected him." Susan snapped hotly.

"I have no romantic intentions on him." Pandora laid it out very plainly.

"Then step aside and give someone else a try." The claws were out and Lily quickly ducked out and concentrated on helping herself to a slice of peach cobbler.

Glancing across the table she spotted the object of the brewing squabble, sitting beside Severus as was his usual place. Sunken eyes and high cheekbones, the boy had a very dark but refined look to go with his seemingly refined personality. She could see his appeal for a girl raised on fairy tales. She wondered if she ought to do Susan a favour and get Sev to set something up.

However it didn't seem like this was the best time as Severus looked as if he was in the middle of a sugar-fuelled melt down. He was trying to be discrete, sitting stock still and slouched, but his scowl was boring a hole through the table. She knew her fiancé dislike sweets but hadn't really fathomed the depth of his loathing.

With a whisper, Lily sent a fluttering silver creature his way, a tiny and discrete silver doe, conjured to mimic the form of her Patronus. He glanced up as the creature bounded across his fruit core ladened plate, his black eyes flying straight to hers.

The glower melted from his face, but his eyes did not brighten. Lily's smile slipped away, her brows pinched with concern as Sev dropped his eyes and pushed away from his table. Without another look backwards he slipped out discretely from the side doors, nobody but Lily noticing his departure.

"Where's he going? He'll miss the entertainment," Lily murmured under her breath.

"Who?" Marlene asked glancing up from her selection of fruits. When the offering was only desserts, the novelty wears thin fast.

Lily pushed her plate away. "Sev left before feast wrapped up."

"Probably hates the cheer of festivities, the dour prat," Marlene ventured her not so unreasonable guess.

"Maybe." Lily stood from her seat.

Her best friend sighed. "But you're gonna check on him anyway."

"Have fun," Mary offered with a too-knowing smile.

With a wrinkle of her nose, Susan muttered, "Please. I'm eating."

Not giving her friends another moment of her annoyance, Lily strode off for the side-door on the Gryffindor's end, confident she'd be able to find him. After all this was the exact purpose for which her rings were enchanted. Severus had asked for the ability to find her, bet he'd never thought the first person to use abuse this power would be her.

Striding down the hallway, she could already feel by the way her heart was pointed that he was somewhere beneath this floor. Dungeon stairs then, as was probably expected. If it was the cheeriness of festivities getting him down, nothing like the dank dreary realm of the castle catacombs to raise his pitch black spirits. She only hoped she could catch him before he slunk into his common room and beyond her reach.

But her fears were not founded, as she stopped before the closed door of a disused classroom. No movement sounded beyond the door, nor light appeared between its gaps. Was Severus just sitting in silent darkness?

"Sev?" she called through the door, knocking hesitantly on the wooden pane. No answer greeted her ears.

Lily glanced down at her ring, refusing to believe its enchantment had gone defective so quickly. Sev was there, but for whatever reason was refusing to answer. "Sev, I'm coming in," she warned.

Pushing aside the door, her eyes was greeted by nothing but darkness. She frowned into the gloom as her eyes adjusted. "Sev?" She almost whispered, feeling an irrational thrill of fear worm within her gut.

"I'm here," his deep voice answered, to her rush of relief.

"Oh my goodness, what are you doing? You gave me a fright," she chastised as she lit her wand and stepped inside. But her relief was short-lived as her eyes fell upon him, huddled in the corner. The scowl he wore was too hardy an expression for a man hiding in a shadowy nook.

"What's wrong?" She asked as she shut the door. She knew him well enough now to spot a mood he didn't want anyone to catch him in.

Severus stood from his compromising position. "Belly ache," he grunted, his voice too tight.

Lily stared, not believing him one whit. "What's actually wrong?"

He froze, eyes cast blankly into an unlit corner of the room. She reached for his hand, feeling his long calloused fingers between her own, before he suddenly pulled away. "It's fine," he almost barked. "I just need some time to myself."

Those were dangerous words if there ever was one. "Are you having second thoughts about our engagement?" Lily asked urgently, prompting him to deny it immediately.

"No. Not that. It's…" He paused, appearing to wrestle internally with something before finishing rather lamely. "Complicated."

Lily's brows pinched together with concern. Something feels off. If there was some unsaid issue between them it needs to be aired and met, not tucked away for it to build like steam in a blocked kettle. "If it's about me, I need to hear it."

"It's not about you," he answered hurriedly, but turned his eyes away as he said it.

"Severus." Lily made another attempt upon his hand, but this time he conceded to her hold. "Be truthful with me."

For the longest moment, Severus didn't move. But slowly he shook his head. "You would not understand."

Green eyes narrowed. "Try me."

His fingers slipped from hers. He stepped away in an almost agitated motion, wearing upon the floor a back and forth before her. The minutes ticked by, and for a moment Lily thought he might simply be stalling for her patience to run thin. If so then he underestimated her resolve, the day they started this relationship, the day she set aside the patience reserved for him.

Finally he stopped mid stride, causing her heart to quiver with anxious anticipation. Slowly he turned to her, a strange expression upon his tired pale face.

"I ask first, that you douse your wand," he requested in an unexpected rasp.

Without needing to be asked twice, Lily flicked it off, pitching the room into an uncomfortable suffocating darkness. She reached forward to find him, only to have him take her hand in a tight, almost painful grasp.

He pulled her to the wall and sat her down beside him, his breaths laboured with unknowable emotion. A fanciful thought passed through Lily's mind, venturing upon Mary's lewd suggestion. This would definitely be a most cunning set up if he did decide to venture beyond his promise, but from the crushing grip upon her fingers she couldn't bring herself to entertain that notion.

Gently she disengaged from his painful grip, prying him away with some difficulty. Instead she slid her hands about his thin frame, feeling the rise and fall of his chest. His breathing was shallow and jagged, as if fighting back silent sorrow.

"What's wrong?" Lily murmured, burying her face into his shoulder. She felt him press her hand tightly against his chest, holding her there.

It was another long moment before he finally spoke, his voice barely a whisper. "I fear…"

Lily leant in, afraid to miss his faint words.

She felt his hand tighten upon hers, gripping tight but not painfully. "I fear your death."

She almost laughed at the unexpectedness of it all. "I'm seventeen, healthy and about to be married. I have a lot of life left to live."

She expected him to laugh, to dismiss his words as irrationality, but he didn't. Severus fell back into silence, as if he were sitting at the deathbed of someone slipping fast away.

"Hey come on. Don't be like that." Lily slipped her hand from his grasp to wrap about his torso. "You're going to make me think I'm ill."

She felt him shift, bringing his arm about her shoulder and locking it with his other. Holding her as tightly as she held him. "You're not," he muttered, then fell silent.

Lily made to pull away to look upwards, desperately searching the suffocating darkness for an impossible glimpse of his eyes.

She felt him tense, as if recoiling in disgust. "I have nightmares, Lily. Nightmares that plague near every sleep. It is always the same one. Of you, dead. Dead in my arms. Dead by my foolishness."

"I'm alive," Lily stated firmly, feeling his arms begin to crush her, along with his baffling emotions. "I'm right here. I'm alive."

She felt his grip slacken, and for a moment she thought him to calm. But then she felt a shudder go through his body, a breath taken that hitched with some unknowable emotion. "I'm sorry," he whispered in a shuddering breath.

What was going on? Why was he acting like this? "I'm alive," Lily urged into the darkness, her arms coiled around his shuddering form. "I'm alive and I'm not going anywhere."

He fell silent again, his form stilled in her embrace. She felt her breath upon her ear, stirring the tendrils of her hair. "I won't make that mistake again. I swear it."

"You haven't made any mistakes." Lily beseeched into the darkness. "You're a good man. You've done more good than you have ever done bad."

He said not a word more as he cradled her. Nor did Lily as she leaned against him, her mind awhirl with his words. Nightmares he said. Frequent, troubling nightmares.

Her father had once described something similar, a story that scared her as a child. He had served as a healer for some muggle soldiers, sent to another land to wage war but returned physically and mentally wrong. Terrors plagued their wake and sleep, terrible nightmares that rendered reality torn. They could not tell what was real and what was false. They believed the horrors of their mind.

"Do you… do you really think that I died?"

She held her breath, awaiting the answer from the darkness.

From the silence, he answered, his voice muted but steady. Certain. "You did. And it was my fault."

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. "I'm alive you dolt! Don't you forget that!" She grasped him tight, so tight his breath escaped in a sudden gasp. "You're not allowed to blame yourself for something you haven't done!"

 _Don't give heed to these thoughts that aren't real._

"Don't blame yourself for nightmares."

One last shuddering breath, then calm. Lily squeezed her eyes shut and leaned heavily against that warm chest. She wanted him to feel her warmth, feel the rise and fall of her chest. To know she was alive.

That she wasn't going anywhere.

* * *

A/N: Snape needs to reserve Hallowe'ens for the purpose of breakdowns.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 14th July 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 38: Another with Regrets**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	38. Another with Regrets

**Chapter 38: Another with Regrets**

"Head Boy and Girl, running off together in the middle of the feast and not returning till well after curfew," Susan accused in a high shrilling voice the moment Lily stepped through her dormitory door. "Don't think we hadn't noticed."

Lily calmly removed her cloak and set about changing into her sleep clothes. "No detention notice yet."

She didn't know how long she sat there with Severus in the dark, just holding him in silence. When he finally shifted, reminding her of curfew, they parted ways at the dark and silent entrance hall. Sev returning to his dungeon chambers, while she was left to return to her dorms.

Lily dodged the prefect patrols deftly, having known their patrol route like the handle of her wand. She stuck close to the rarely-trod secret passages up to the seventh floor, narrowly avoiding the scrutiny of the mean and ancient cat that Filch owned. It was close to ten in the evening when Lily set foot in her common room to great disapproval of the inebriated portrait. It seemed the Fat Lady had been imbibing in the painting of the wine barrels again.

There was a heaviness to the evening, one that Lily hadn't felt before, not even the rosy cheer of the warmly lit common room could dispel it. It was hard to believe that there was a celebration of sorts merely hours before, when all she could think of now was Severus' pained shuddering breaths in the darkness.

What happened to make him like this? This heavy despair over something that wasn't real. How long had these nightmares been going on? Was this what caused him to change so suddenly, and so drastically? Had he been holding on to this for the last year?

Was he a seer?

That last thought shook her to the core, not because she feared the possibility of her fate, but for what it would mean for Severus. She knew he was the kind of man who didn't let go easily. The idea that he held in his hands the means to save her but would fail. She could not see him letting go of that. She could see him withdraw into a life of regret and self-flagellation.

She had glimpsed too closely of that fate tonight, and it shook her to her core.

"Setting a legendary example, aren't you?" Susan continued to snipe, but Lily simply didn't have the patience to put up with it tonight.

"Absolutely. Couldn't wait to find a dark corner for a hearty snog," Lily quipped as she slipped on her pyjama top, a lot more boldly than she had intended. She sent herself into a flush.

Unexpectedly Marlene laughed. "Oh god, Lily. Ew." Yet she seemed amused at the utter disgust on Susan's face and she couldn't didn't anything extra to push the point.

"Well, how was it, Lily?" Mary asked with a semblance of concern. "This was your first, I assume?"

The Head Girl couldn't help the exasperated sigh from tearing from her throat. "I was joking. We didn't do anything."

The muggle girl slipped from her bed to sit on Lily's. "Are you just saying that?"

With a sigh Lily flopped onto her covers, almost unsettling her friend. "No. I'm serious. Severus wants to save things for marriage and that's what he's been doing."

"Hadn't thought he had the self-control," Mary muttered with a shrug. "Good for him, I suppose."

Marlene dropped heavily on the other side. "So, you just went for a nice long brood with him huh?"

"Something like that," Lily murmured as she closed her eyes against the flickering candle light. Her friends didn't need to know about what had happened. She didn't even understand what had happened. She always knew Severus had quirks but this… . What had made him turn so suddenly? He was so frightened for events imagined. For "nightmares" as espoused from his own mouth. It was as if he thought it all real.

Her father's horror stories came to mind.

"Well I believe you." Lily jolted from her spiralling worry as her best friend sprawled out beside her. "You couldn't have shagged him today."

Lily snorted, glad for this distraction. "And why on earth not?"

The blond girl turned an eyebrow. "Because… That time of the month."

"Oh right." Lily grinned. It was a too-frequent source of amusement that all the girls in this room had synchronised by their fourth year and would do so every year within a month of returning from holidays. She always wondered if this was a magical aspect of her body, or if muggles experienced something similar.

Mary lay herself down as well on that ever-decreasing space of Lily's bed. "That doesn't have to stop you," she said unexpectedly.

Sending both girls into giggling wretch of disgust. "Oh ew. Mary!"

"Hey, I didn't start us off on the gross and raunchy path. I just finished it."

Marlene covered her face as Susan dove scarlet faced behind the privacy of her curtains. "You have ruined the purity of my mind!"

The muggle girl rolled over to raise a brunette eyebrow at her pureblood counterpart, squishing Lily in the process "We're all adults here. We can have a frank discussion."

Marlene wriggled on the spot as if to burrow deeper into the bedding and out of sight. "Not Lily. She's still not tried it."

"That's not what I meant by adult," Mary sighed, her wane smile seemed terribly amused. "She's thought about things rationally. By that regard, you're more of a child Marlene."

"There wasn't any time to think," Marlene muttered, a little abashed. "And how do so many people know about it anyway? I trust you had nothing to do with it Lily."

Almost unable to move, Lily managed to shake her head, not as vigorously as she would have liked. "It wasn't me I swear."

"You're not exactly being discrete with your affections," Mary offered in gentle advice. "You can always tell when somebody's been doing more than tongue wrestling. Especially the way you two go at it."

The blond girl raised a brow. "You got all that by watching me snog."

"And Sirius Black is not a man who can keep his best friend's conquests secret."

Marlene groaned, "Arse! Everyone knows?"

"Obviously not," the muggle girl reassured. "Susan's not harping it near and far. She still hasn't caught on."

To which Marlene huffed a very relieved sigh. "Still, he's such an arse for spilling," she complained as she turned on her back to stare at the canopy, freeing up some space for Lily to breathe. "Always thought you two might have a fling. Considering how open and breezy the both of you are about knocking it."

"Who says we don't?"

Marlene was immediately back on her side again, sealing Lily back in her cocoon. "No, really?"

Mary grinned and shrugged. "Whenever I'm between relationships Sirius is always good for some fun. Don't fancy him for anything serious however."

"I suppose he is a bit of a come-all, love-all. Can't tie him down for nothing. Not the sort that would settle quietly for a steady." Marlene nodded solemnly in agreement of faulty character.

"What about yours?" Mary asked, leaning inwards. "Thought you'd be sick of his preening by now."

"He knows he's handsome. And I like that he knows what he likes," Marlene answered lightly, oblivious to how her hair was smothering the girl between them.

Mary grinned, leaning further in. "Yeah, himself."

Lily pushed aside the crushing presence of her two friends to sit up. "Guys. Personal space," she gasped as she shifted to the bottom of the bed to sit facing the duo.

Marlene sat up to turn a solemn eye on the girl. "And we can't forget your guy. He's alright, Severus."

Positively the kindest thing Marlene had ever said about him and offered without prompting. Lily felt a little taken aback. "Umm thank? You feeling okay?"

The blond girl squirmed, almost as if the words from her mouth lent her physical discomfort. "Sorry I was an ass to him before… I can see a little of what you mean now. He's done a lot for everyone here. Even more for… some."

A smile edged upon Lily's lips, the cloying worry of the night pieced by the reminder of what was important. "Heard about Remus huh?"

"Yeah." Marlene nodded, a little abashed. "James told me about his… little problem."

Mary raised a brow at this attempt at subtlety. "Did Snape help with his werewolf problem?" The suddenness of this revelation elicited a gasp of delight from Lily, as well as a groan from Marlene.

The blond girl slumped back into the mattress. "Did everyone know but me?!"

* * *

With Hallowe'en's end, Snape's mind uncluttered, bringing with it the shame of his mortifying behaviour around Lily. It wasn't enough that November came with its own assortment of headaches but now he could not help but remember how humiliatingly clingy he could be.

He was most thankful that Lily never mentioned a word of it in that passing week. Though that could be down to the formality of their time spent together. It was a week spent without pressing events or the Wolfsbane Potion in the background, and they both spent it catching up on study, and in her case, homework.

In many ways it was relaxing to return to the silence of the library. Not making any small talk as they tore through textbooks with studious ability. But he could not shake the suspicion for every glance she laid his way, for every word economically whispered, that she was thinking about the words he uttered on Hallowe'en.

He hadn't meant to say so much. He certainly hadn't meant to whimper so hard right in front of her. He had looked a right arse that night; it certainly wasn't the most manly he'd ever felt. But at that time, he hadn't been able to get his head out of his knees for long enough to divorce himself from his humiliation. He had been in the darkest of his moods; the one where he could not claw through the guilt strangling him.

It shouldn't have been so bad this year. He had promised himself, in light of the direction his life was taking, that he wouldn't lose sight of this reality. That this was his life now, and he was doing right by Lily.

But that insidious darkness would not leave him. The closer to evening he had come, the more anxious he had become. Time rolling upon that terrible hour. That night when he lost everything. It didn't matter that Lily was there, holding him, and reassuring him of her continued existence. Somehow that made things worse.

That moment, that happened twenty years ago on that night, that hadn't yet happened in this lifetime, anchored firmly forever in this mind. A grim anniversary that bode no celebration. A reminder of how deeply he had wronged her. This woman who had clung to him as he shuddered like a child, soothing him through nightmares she could not possibly understand.

That was what his episode must be to her, a melt down over a nightmare. If it were possible to be more mortified, Snape had yet to experience it. With the clarity that comes with the passing of that dark anniversary, the full weight of his pathetic tantrum sent him into a state of perpetual cringe. How anybody could stand his presence, having witnessed him at his most pathetic, was beyond him. But that was what Lily did.

The days when they had no class, she would study alongside him in silence. The days they took class together, she would sit by him, far more often then she had been already. Not once did she bring up his mortifying breakdown.

That was how his time with her on Friday ended, parting at the end of charms class with only a reminder to arrange further time off on the weekend of Petunia's wedding. Another joyous event to look forward to. Spectacular…

"You seem less chipper this evening. Is something the matter, Severus?" Dumbledore prompted as Snape glanced up from the Headmaster's old alchemical journals.

"I'd like to know your definition of chipper, Dumbledore," Snape grumbled as he sipped from his cup of wonderfully strong black tea. Imported from the far reaches of the South Orient. These recent tutorial evenings had held solely for his benefit, and it was poor form to waste it. He was not technically a student and he would not emulate their ingratitude.

The headmaster's blue eyes twinkled annoyingly at him from over his own reading. "One might believe you're not looking forward to attending this wedding."

Snape almost pursed his lips in a most-Petunia like expression. "Whatever gave that away?" he spat.

"Do not fear, your potion will be in good hands," Dumbledore assured lightly. "Though it's been many years since I was truly tested in this field, I have the utmost confidence I can handle this."

Snape scowled lightly. "I have not forgotten that you too are a Master-class Potioneer. I have no further qualms about your gracious offer to take on the task of this thankless potion this month." And frankly he could not give a toss about whether it turned out functional.

"Then please, speak of why you are in such a black mood, Severus. Everything is well I hope?" the headmaster inquired further, quite politely.

"Would that I was able to excuse myself from the prospect of another weekend with Petunia and her gluttonous fiancé," Snape muttered.

If Dumbledore doubted his excuse, the serene man made no indication. "So it is simply gloom in anticipation of impending festivities." The headmaster smiled as if in understanding. "I wager there might be some contentment to be had in entertaining dread for something so banal," his smile receded, "especially with the coming dark days."

"Days that will not pass," Snape growled with narrowing eyes. "I trust you have… applied my gift _appropriately_."

With a solemn bow of his head, Dumbledore fell into contemplative silence.

Snape's eyes narrowed. "After all this time, we still only have the three?"

"I confess, Severus. I am no closer to another Horcrux since we last spoke." The headmaster's brow crinkled with unspoken concern.

"Why on earth not?" Snape snapped, feeling the bile of panic rise. He had been content to leave the matters of the war at the back of his mind thus far, trusting the infallibility of Dumbledore like so many of the foolish before him. Something he knew not to be true, a lesson taught harshly to him by circumstances of both lifetimes.

For his part, Dumbledore seemed rather calm at the prospect of being powerless to stop the impending storm of death and darkness. He calmly sipped his tea, loaded with sugar and cream. "Helena holds a vital piece of that puzzle. A piece she is unwilling to give up."

"So? Compel it out of her. You are the headmaster. The ghosts obey your command!" Snape barked.

"Is that how you treated our castles denizens during your reign?" the headmaster asked lightly, his piercing blue eyes flashing over the top of his half-moon glasses.

That brought a rise out of Snape, a flash of red hot anger. "I did as I was forced to do. So that I could carry out your very last order to me, Dumbledore. Don't you dare take the high pedestal!" There was no negotiating with the castle's bound servants. Had he not wielded the extent of the headmaster's will, the castle's very walls would rebel against him.

"A difficult situation you were forced to endure. I am sorry for it," Dumbledore conceded with a solemn nod. "However, that is a different situation as to the present. I do not wish to bend her will with my authority, Severus."

"I didn't realise the only thing to stop your crusade was the hurt feelings of one dead girl" Snape sneered.

A faint smile touched Dumbledore's lips as he shook his head. "Eventually, it would not. But for now, we have time." He brought his tea cup to his lips for another infuriatingly calm sip of his tea. "Besides. Do you see a clever Ravenclaw as Helena is to be one easily compelled to give up her hidden heart? I would think she would be at least as elusive as you in her answers, and you should know how easily one gets lost in pursuit of half-truths.

Snape scowled hard into his lukewarm cup of tea, as if the complexities of the war was somehow down to this cup of warm bitter brew. This idea of sitting back and letting the answers find their way did not sit well with Snape. A patient Slytherin he might be, but even he knew one did not rely on luck for matters of utmost importance.

"Do you even know what piece you are looking for?" Snape asked in a muted tone.

"Perhaps," Dumbledore answered, lightly. "There are several ancient artefacts associated with Rowena Ravenclaw, but only one that stands out most prominently. Her lost diadem, disappeared centuries past. Perhaps before her death, even."

Snape could not help shaking his head with a scowl. "If it was lost centuries past, how could it possibly be the item we are looking for? How could the Dark Lord procure it when it has been buried by the centuries?"

"Yet again, perhaps," Dumbledore quipped lightly. "I hold no certainty to this theory. Only that the only person in existence who lived during that era, who could give us the first clue about the mysterious fate of the diadem is Helena Ravenclaw."

 _She wasn't the only one._ Snape realised with sudden clarity that he had heard her name from the lips of another once before. A ghostly denizen of a past none know of, garbed in robes from centuries long past. Whose ghostly regrets bemoaned the wrongs inflicted to his dear Helena.

"I may know of another who weathered that era," Snape declared through clenched teeth. The prospect of intruding upon such dark regrets sat heavy within his heart.

* * *

The dungeons proved void of the Baron. Usually that ghost was not hard to detect as everywhere he haunted, those damnable chains clinked and rattled. The sound could drive Snape mad should the Baron be ever inclined to haunt him in true, but thankfully that ghost avoided the living as earnestly as the living avoided him.

That unfortunately was proving an obstacle this fine Saturday morning as Snape searched for signs of that elusive ghost. He knew someone unliving was down here as there was a fine residue of fresh ectoplasm along the corridor walls. However, it wasn't long before he discovered the true culprit behind the ghostly trails.

Coming upon the student potion storage room, Snape heard a loud rattle. He yanked open the door, expecting to catch students in the act of theft, but instead found Peeves the poltergeist, hanging slimy tendrils of stinkweed above the classroom entrance.

With a snarl Snape blasted the poltergeist with a binding curse, and with a high-pitched squeal of surprise, Peeves dropped his roll of stinkweed and floated with his arms bolted stiffly to his sides. Poltergeists were the rare form of spirits able to affect the physical world of the living, and as a result were also one of the few spirits that magic worked near-normally on.

For whatever reason that creature's infuriating mouth refused to stay closed. "Oooooh, Head Boy Snapey. Sticking his absurdly long nose into where it's unwelcome. So ugly mirrors would rather crack then reflect- grrk!" His ghostly tongue flew to the roof of his mouth and stuck.

"Speak only to answer my questions, Peeves. I will not ask twice," Snape snarled at the blissfully silent spirit. "Where is the Baron?"

With a flick of his wand he unstuck the poltergeist's tongue. "Snapey, Snapey. Why would you be looking for grumpy old Baron? Wouldn't you rather look for little Lily Evans?" He cackled madly then puckered his lips in mockery of a kissy face. The fact that he was at the mercy of the young wizard did not sweeten Peeve's caustic tongue in the least.

Snape didn't know why he thought Peeves might relent. He was honestly becoming too much of an optimist. Without another word he sent him bouncing against the walls of the potions cupboard, almost unsettling a jar of powdered rat spleen.

The mad jester of a poltergeist shrilled and giggled, seemingly unfazed by the ill treatment. "Snuck off on Halloween together, down into the dungeons I hear. Searching around in her dungeons, were you?" He giggled madly as Snape flushed, fuelling the potion master's irritation.

"One last chance, Peeves," Snape said in his silky threatening tone. "Tell me where the Baron is, else when I find him I will inform him of the havoc you have been wrecking in his domain."

That got a rise of fear from that undead fiend. "Baron is at the highest point. He likes the fresh air and sunshine when he rattles and moans."

Up in the Astronomy tower. That made sense. With a nod of thanks, Snape flicked his wand and re-gagged the spirit. The poltergeist glared indignantly as Snape smirked and slammed shut the ingredient storage door. The curses would wear off eventually, in possibly a week or so. Snape seriously doubted anyone chancing upon the stricken Poltergeist would take mercy to that abominable spirit.

He had warned Peeves that there would only be one chance given. That uncooperative jester had refused to meet his terms at the first asking, so no mercy would be given. At the very least however, no word of the poltergeist's transgressions would be spoken to the Baron.

Snape was after all, a man of his word.

* * *

The ring was an imperfect guide. It pointed in one direction but oh so imprecise about how much distance and how many floors separated them. Lily had spent all morning tracking her fiancé back and forth along the dungeon route. Infuriatingly he was not standing still long enough for Lily to get a reasonable gauge of direction and descent.

It was only when Sev emerged from the potion passage did Lily finally catch him. "I have been looking all over for you!" she demanded, making him freeze in his step. She was quite certain that was his way of startling. "We have to start on the potion!" Lily was quite confident that she could have brought it through its first stages without guidance quite adequately but for whatever reason Severus had his laboratory door locked.

Severus turned about, dipping his head in a show of contrition. Surely he hadn't forgotten… "Apologies. I forgot-" _Thought so._ "-to tell you. Professor Dumbledore has taken over on brewing responsibilities this turn of the month."

Lily frowned. "What's the occasion?" she asked, eliciting a strange glare of disbelief from Sev.

"Have you forgotten?" Lily's mind began to backpedal to ponder on what that might be. "Your sister's wedding is in two weeks."

A true groan of horror escaped Lily's lips. "I must have suppressed that unpleasant memory."

A sentiment that Sev must be able to get behind for he nodded quite understandingly. "Hence why Dumbledore is easing our passing month."

With an almost unperceivable tilt of his head, Sev indicated for Lily to follow. She trotted a few steps to catch up with his long strides, taking them down the path out of the dungeon corridor.

"I barely know what to do with all the spare time," Lily chirped excitedly. She had been mentally preparing herself all week for this mentally and physically challenging exercise.

Sev cast her a sceptical glance. "I should hope study is somewhere on that list."

"Pfft." Lily rolled her eyes. "When did you become such a spoilsport? I daresay being Head Boy has brought out the boring side in you."

Her fiancé appeared unamused at that assessment, frowning deeply as they emerged into the steady late-morning light that never reached far into the dungeon stretch.

Lily stared down the sunbeams that danced from the windows of the Entrance Hall. There was a warmth in the air that had been absent this past week. The golden sunshine chased away that biting chill that had been building with the season's passing. It would be a wonderful day to farewell the autumn by the lakeside.

"I'll study with you later today, if you sit with me by the lake till lunch," Lily bargained, a habit she was getting into, learning the lay of the land in a relationship with a Slytherin.

Severus paused in his step, a look of mild discomfort passing his features. "I'd love to…"

Lily raised an eyebrow at his tone. "But?"

"But I have an errand to run today," he finished, swallowing down his discomfort.

"Which is?" Lily prodded. She knew she was being nosey but after what happened on Halloween she was not content to simply take his reluctance to spend time with her on face value.

However, it appeared that was one prodding question too far as Severus immediately turned on his heels and stalked away. Lily paused for a beat, debating with herself whether or not to give chase, but curiosity won out with the knowledge he could never hold a grudge against her.

"Come on Sev. We're friends. You can tell me," Lily jested as she struggled to keep up. If she thought his strides were long before, she certainly had her eyes opened.

"Nothing so salacious I assure you," Sev snapped, extraordinarily evasively.

They took a sharp turn at the base of the Entrance Flight, avoiding the steps leading to the Grand Staircase. It was a moment before Lily realised exactly where they were headed. Her hands whipped out to take his as she dug down her heels. "The Astronomy tower is out of bounds!" She exclaimed, as if he wasn't fully aware of that fact.

"Then I would thank you to keep your voice down," he muttered, acting in every way as if this blatant flaunting of rules was intentional.

He cracked open the wooden door and slipped inside, leaving Lily outside to battle her moral dilemma. In the end she chose to quickly follow, slipping inside before anyone could witness her unlawful action.

"Seriously Sev. Why are we here?" Lily hissed as she caught up to his ascent up the spiralling staircase. The air that flowed down this spiralling tower was touched with the chill of the coming winter. The height of the tower funnelled down the frigid air from up on high, stripping it of the merry warmth of that sunny day.

The taller boy glared down at her, seeming unimpressed by her willingness to follow him out of rule-bound territories. "I don't know what you're doing here but I'm here to meet someone."

"You have a permission slip from a teacher?" Lily asked so hopefully.

A black eyebrow arched. "No."

Her heart dropped as she trotted up another three steps to draw level with him. "If it's not a teacher who are you seeing? You're breaking the rules by just being here!"

"Not so boring anymore, am I?"

Despite everything, Lily could not help the sudden snort of laughter. Severus' own brand of humour was coming fast and thick of late, and almost always at the most unexpected of times.

That amusement, however, turned in the blink of the eye as a ghostly visage suddenly loomed high from the walls, scattering her wits with the sudden fright.

"I thought I told you to keep away from the tower," came the booming voice of the Bloody Baron.

The voice caught in Lily's throat as she struggled to think up a reasonable excuse for why they were out of bounds. Before words could pass her lips, Severus stepped forward, but it wasn't a denial that passed his lips. "I would not be here willingly had I not been in search of you, Baron."

The severe ghost glared down from above. "A message is it? Out with it then," he boomed in such a demanding tone, that had she been able to, Lily would have obeyed in a heartbeat.

"Not a message," Sev replied, as calm as if he were speaking to a fellow Slytherin, and not the ghostly incarnation of a week's worth of detention. "I sought you under my own volition. I feel I must speak to you, sir."

 _Sir_. Despite the gravity of the situation, a smile touched Lily's lips. She never knew Severus to be the kind who would call a non-human 'sir.' It wasn't so long ago when he wouldn't even offer a respectful moniker to the Professors.

The Baron swooped down close, stripping the absentminded smile from Lily's face. "Then speak. What brings two Head students out of the realm of rules to find me?"

Lily took a step back and shook her head, barely able to meet the looming glare of the Baron. Severus' hand flew to her sleeve, however, as if he thought she might flee and abandon him to his fate. His black eyes bore into hers as if it whirled in thoughts unworded, an expression foreign upon the face of a Gryffindor, but all too common among the schemers of Slytherin.

"I had wished to introduce you, Baron. To my betrothed, Lily." Lily started, she hadn't expected Severus' errand to be a social call.

A strange darkened shadow fell across the Baron's ghostly visage. "… Your… betrothed?"

Lily didn't know what she was expecting from the ghost. Dismissiveness. Anger at Sev's presumptions perhaps. Not this numb surprise… this strange bitter longing.

"She is very beautiful," he finally relented, his booming voice suddenly gentle. "It is good to see young Slytherins searching for their heart among other Houses."

Severus dipped his head in acknowledgement, but from his mouth came a question. "Was Helena not a Slytherin?"

Such an unexpected question, uttered so unexpectedly. From the Baron's sudden quiet that he had been taken by that question, and from that slow rage building behind his features, this was not a question he was pleased to be asked.

"How dare you!" he roared, startling Lily against the tower wall. His hollow voice echoed down the stone steps, causing the girl to fear the noise would draw a curious teacher. "That name is not for anyone's utterance! Where did you hear it?!"

If Severus was startled by the ferocity he invoked, he did not show it. He bowed his head respectfully and answered as he was bade. "I heard it from you, Baron. When you spoke of regret of her passing."

A shroud fell over the Baron's face. "Had I really? I must have… Oh Helena…" His voice softened, and from his ghostly throat came a slow mournful sound.

"What was she like?" Severus prodded gently against all expectation. Lily could only watch on silently as this conversation carried, trying to understand what was happening. To her it sounded as if the Baron had a lover named Helena who met a tragic end, and somehow Severus not only knew about it but was interested enough to seek out the Baron for such a conversation. That had to be his purpose today, because she thought it highly unlikely today's exercise was to introduce his fiancé to his House Ghost.

"She was a Ravenclaw…" the Baron offered unexpectedly. "Not just a Ravenclaw, but a true Ravenclaw. Helena Ravenclaw."

"Rowena Ravenclaw's daughter?" Lily gasped. This was like a hidden page taken from her Hogwarts a History. She never knew she had lived six years amongst beings who had been alive alongside the founders of this school.

The Baron's ghostly eyes glanced upon her, so calm despite his sorrow. "She was beautiful… like you," he almost whispered, his voice whisked away upon the wind.

"What happened to her?" Severus asked gently, more carefully then she had ever seen him tread in conversation.

"Dead, dead. Oh Helena…" Another mournful sound emitted from the Baron's ghostly throat. "Dead by my hands. Oh how I wronged you Helena."

Lily started, eyes round. So unexpected that confession had been. A dark glimpse into Baron's ghostly regrets. A thought niggled in Lily's mind, a reminder of Severus' troubled soul on the night of the hallowed eve.

"Where?" Severus urged, his gentle tone rising. "Why?"

But the Baron did not appear to be listening any longer. "My fault. Mine. I'm so sorry Helena…" His great chains rattled in a rhythmic clanking. The sound of penance for wrongs wrought so long ago. "I did this to you."

"I am very sorry for what has happened, but you must tell me why this occurred," Severus demanded, his voice taking on a tone of urgency. "What happened to your Helena?"

That was such a prying question to come from the mouth of a famously recluse boy. His eyes did not waver from the ghost before him, seemingly determined to understand as if his own heart lay at the bottom of this tragedy. Lily slipped to his side to thread her fingers through his. His eyes flickered to her, his warm fingers curling around hers.

Were these questions pried from the unexplainable wounds upon his heart? Words that had not left his lips again since that night he appeared before her, shaken and distraught by the tragedies painted by his own mind. Her fingers tightened, feeling the nicks and scars upon his course hands, a portrait of their counterparts upon his heart.

The rattling was rhythmic, a symptom of the Baron's wracking sobs. His mournful voice carried as it always did, but it was the first time Lily was close enough to hear his muttered repentance. "My fault that she died," he moaned, alarmingly similar to the words uttered from Severus' lips. "My fault. I killed her. With my own hands I killed her."

She could feel Severus tensing, his black eyes growing wide upon his stony face, his expression still. Empathy, Lily thought it might be. A shared tumultuous heart.

"Why did you kill her? Were you trying to… gain something?" That hesitation spoke volumes. Looking for answers to himself in another man's story.

Slowly the Baron shook his head, his chains clanging arrhythmically with his motion. "One rush of… foolish anger. One eternity of regret. I killed her because she did not love me. I died on that very same sword. My penance is eternal, for I shall never escape her scorn."

"But, that was hundreds of years ago," Lily found her voice, along with the sudden need to lend some comforting thought to this too heavy depression of a conversation. "What you did was terrible, but surely you have paid well enough with centuries of penance? I can't imagine she'd demand you pay more after she's been gone for so long."

Those chains clinked together as the Baron shook his head again. "She is not gone, she has been by my side, suffering this eternity alongside me. Her eternal scorn, fitting punishment to my crime. Her suffering, my suffering. Oh my Helena…"

Lily frowned in confusion, wondering if ghosts were also able to suffer from these reality-bending traumatic hallucinations. Severus however, was not even the slightest off kilter by these uttered confessions. "What were her binding regrets? Why did she become chained to the mortal world as you did?"

"She's a ghost?" Lily gasped.

The Baron's voice lowered as his head dipped. "My Helena… My grey lady…" His uttered mournful cries were drowned out by his rattling chains. "I'm sorry. I wronged you so terribly."

"Please, focus!" Severus cried above the noise. "I need to know why! I need to know-"

But it was too late. The Baron swept through the walls and disappeared from sight, his loud rattling penance falling into silence.

With a slow exhale, Severus released his tension. Lily watched him with wide worried eyes as he visibly shrunk in on himself, a scowl playing on the fringes of his expression. He did not find what he was looking for within that broken man.

"Why are you hurting so?" The question slipped from her lips before she could stop it. He froze, his nerves bundling up again. His black eyes finally turned to hers, wide and searching. Somehow, frightened.

Lily slipped her arms about him, bringing him into an embrace. Slowly he enclosed his arms about her. A warm familiar entanglement that soothed her own jangled nerves.

But she could not shake the encounter from her mind. That night when he sought the solitude of darkness to mourn a misdeed that was a reality only to himself. An explanation she had waited for that she had never received.

She knew the kind of man he was, the steady, rational, clever boy he was. But she could not for the life of her understand what occurred that night. If it was just nightmares, night terrors he could not shake, then why would it twist his waking hours like it did?

She could feel his heart beat against her own. So close physically, and in spirit. Yet his unsaid demons hung between them.

A darkness that she feared.

* * *

A/N: I don't think it'd take much guessing to know what the next chapter's about.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 28th July 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 39: A Very Muggle Wedding**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	39. A Very Muggle Wedding

**Chapter 39: A Very Muggle Wedding**

That dark thick mane of hair fought aggressively against the brush. Severus rarely took physical care of his long locks, resulting in a full coverage of tangles. Lily's fingers darted across those thick strands, struggling alongside the valiant hairbrush.

"Do you really have to pamper me so?" Severus grumbled heartily, as he had throughout the entire process.

"I'm not even at the pampering yet," Lily replied in a huff, her face reddened by the surprising amount of exertion. "This is just basic maintenance."

Severus' reflection scowled, as if the prospect of having his hair look its best seemed in some way unpleasant to him. "Just cast an Untangling Charm and get this over with already."

"No," Lily replied in a forced calm tone. "That charm almost always causes your hair to frizz badly," she explained slowly as if trying to teach the concept to an exceptionally slow learner. Though in this field, Sev would qualify.

"Why would I care how my hair is behaving?" he continued to grumble.

The struggling girl almost snapped at him, "Well it's my sister's wedding today, and I kind of do care about how you'd look in front of all my relatives!"

That caused him to fall into silence, but for the briefest of pauses, before his snark escaped his thinly pressed lips. "Should have thought of that before you dated me."

"Excuse me?" A giggling snort tore through Lily's throat, ruining her stern-faced expression of disbelief. "You look fine. It's just you could stand to look a bit… neater."

Severus' look of disbelief was not in the least tempered. "There's no need to lie to me, Lily. I know I'm not pleasant to look at."

"Oh don't be like that," Lily huffed as she returned to straining that brush against his thick unyielding hair. "I'd say you're more of an acquired taste. Like Marmite."

Severus looked her reflection in the eye, his glowering disbelief losing its effect with his hair smoothed about his neck and with him stuffed into a very muggle suit. There was no escaping the fact that this was to be a muggle wedding, and that they both were expected to be on their best muggle behaviour. That meant taking special care of Severus' hair as long flowing locks were unusual among the non-magical men.

The wedding was to be held in the bustle of muggle London, at some sort of reputable religious institute. Hotel rooms were arranged for both Lily and her father, but owing to some sort of mix-up, only two rooms were booked. Either Severus was not expected to be staying the evening in London, or he was expected to share Lily's room. She knew which she preferred, to both Severus and her father's deep concern.

A knock came at the door. "Lily, Severus? Are you two ready?" The voice of her father rang through. This was the third time he had disturbed them throughout this grooming process. That spoke volumes of both the difficulty of taming Sev's hair, and how paranoid her father was about his daughter being behind closed doors.

Lily waved her free hand in an absent manner and the lock clicked open without difficulty. Nonverbal spells, in combination with her existing ability with wandless casting, were becoming increasingly easy for Lily. Her father pushed into the room, already dressed in a black suit that stretched tightly across his belly, his coat buttons buckling against the strain.

"I see you haven't worn that suit in years," Lily commented without mercy.

Her father sighed and patted his round belly. "I don't suppose you have something in your bag of tricks that makes my life easier?"

Lily grinned sheepishly. "Sev knows tailoring spells." Which was her way of admitting she never bothered learning that class of spells.

The aforementioned boy turned his dark eyes to assess the situation. "Simply follow the contours of the shirt with an extension spell, Lily. It's not alchemy."

"You do it," she urged. "I don't want to ruin dad's shirt before the wedding. Please?"

With a sigh, Severus stood with his wand and drew it in a circular motion before him. Her father's shirt instantly grew to accommodate his added girth, allowing the old man a sigh of relief. "That's honestly a very handy set of life-skills you have, Severus. Don't ever allow anybody to tell you that it's not manly to have the ability to tailor."

"Or cooking. Or cleaning," Lily added as she pulled him back to his seat. "Or hair maintenance."

Sev sighed, "Just use an Untangling Charm."

Lily ignored him and continued to struggle valiantly against the knots in his hair. "A tight conservative ponytail, what do you think dad?"

"Let it be loose," Her father replied unexpectedly. "If anyone asks we'll just say he's a hippy."

Sev's eyes narrowed at the ensuing laughter, he had no idea what they were talking about. Probably for the best.

"Don't worry," Lily reassured her glaring fiancé. "We're not making fun of you." It wasn't a lie if said with good intentions, right? "We'll just put your hair in a ponytail, neat but nothing too fancy. Then I can finally start getting ready." Lily hadn't even changed into her formal dress yet. She was still garbed in her warm muggle-styled petticoat draped over her school robes.

Her father sighed unexpectedly. "Petunia did you wrong, refusing her own sister for a bridesmaid."

Lily paused in her action, his words stirring up the stinging hurt. Petunia did not wish for her own sister to be by her side on the day she walked down the aisle, she hadn't even bother to tell Lily, having left her find out by inference on the day. Lily found the dress prepared for her to be a red one, at jarring odds to the matching yellows Petunia's school friends wore.

"It's fine. It's her big day after all," Lily replied, hoping her hurt was not as apparent as it felt. "Besides, that just means she can't complain when I don't pick her to be my bridesmaid."

That caused the frown upon her father's brow to deepen. "I don't like this fighting. You're both my girls. Please don't do this."

A worm of guilt flickered across Lily's heart. "I didn't start this," she muttered as she bound Severus' ponytail in place. His black eyes had been closed the entire time. He griped but she knew he loved the feeling of her fingers in his hair, even to the point of such complacency right in front of her father. There was just something so gratifying about knowing he had buttons to push.

"We're done," she announced, stepping back to admire her work. The tight ponytail didn't really work with his features, but rarely anything did. At the very least, nobody could complain about how neat he looked.

From the scowl Severus sported, it seemed he agreed with her assessment. He turned from the mirror, seemingly unable to stomach the sight of himself. "I'll leave you to change then."

"Hold on," Lily demanded. "I did your hair, the least you can do is help me put on this dress. The zip's at the back so I can't do it myself without risk of tearing it."

Both men froze at the doorway. "Excuse me?" Her father raised an aghast eyebrow.

"Oh, get off it, dad," Lily sighed exasperated. "We're going to be married."

"So, you're not married yet. You do not ask an unwed gentleman to 'do up your dress.'"

Lily's eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Fine. If I tear it, I'm going in my knickers."

Her father sighed and ran his fingers over his chubby but freshly shaven chin. "Severus, would you be so kind as to leave the room."

He didn't even put up a struggle, Severus stood and left without another word. "Brown Noser," Lily grumbled as she ducked behind the folding screen and stripped off her garb.

"You really shouldn't test him like that." Her father's voice rang over the screen as Lily slipped the slim dress over her head.

"I'm growing up, dad," Lily retorted as she slipped her arms into the half-cropped sleaves. "Stop trying to stop it."

Another sigh sounded over the folding screen. "You're still my little girl, Lily. You'll always be my little girl."

She paused in the middle of smoothing down the hems of her long flowing dress. "I know, dad…" She felt a small twang of guilt. "You don't have to worry about Severus, he's keeping true to his word."

"I'm not worried about him. I believe him to be a man who takes his promises seriously."

"So you're fine with him sharing my room tonight?" Lily asked as she straightened her collar, a little too hopefully.

"Lily…"

She sighed and stepped out of the folding screen, turning her back to her exasperated father so he could do up her dress. "I get it, its fine. He'll just pop on back to home. It's just one apparition jump for him."

"It's not that I don't trust you two, I just…" her father's warm voice trailed off as Lily stepped away to shrug on the bathrobe to ward away the mild but chilling breeze while she made further preparations. "I was young too once you know. I know how hard it is balancing morals and temptation at that age," her father offered, unexpectedly candidly. "Your mother didn't make things easy for me either."

Among topics a young girl didn't want to think about, her parents' romantic life rated quite highly. "Right. Gotcha. Boys get worked up," Lily muttered, hoping to ward off this mortifying topic before it lifted off the ground.

"And you're beautiful, Lily. Just like your mother," her father continued as Lily sat down to style her hair and apply a touch of light make up. She wasn't left with a lot of time after how long she spent on Severus' mess of a mane. "I ask that you be considerate of the poor boy. I'm certain he's trying his best but it doesn't take much for one to forget their better conscience."

"And just what if things spiralled out of control? Does it really matter in the long run?" Lily asked as she applied a light touch of foundation. She was already quite pale, the application of further layer of white was more for the concealment of her smattering of freckles. All little tricks taught to her by her friend and fellow muggle-born, Mary.

"No, it doesn't. You're right it doesn't," her father relented unexpectedly. "You don't live in my world; society's expectations shouldn't play too damning a part in your life. But he'll know. And if he's the sort of young man I believe him to be then breaking his word will bother him."

That really was exactly the kind of man he was. With a sigh, Lily relented. "I get it, dad. Don't worry."

There was almost no time for anything else, she had to rely on magic to stick up her hair. Somehow spell work always wound the hair bun up so tightly it looked artificial. For the rest of her make up all she could manage was a light touch of lipstick alongside a smattering of blush. Eye shadow and liner was certainly outside of what her time would allow. "Well what do you think?" She asked as she turned to model for her father.

"Like a beautiful young lady," he graciously answered as he handed over her muggle-tailored cloak and planted a kiss upon her forehead. "And soon you'll be a wife, and probably someday a mother. But for now, you are my daughter, so be my little girl for a little while longer."

Lily reached up to hug her old chubby father. "I will, dad," she muttered, careful not to smear her newly-applied foundation onto his black tuxedo.

Her father smiled his easy warm smile. "Come on then. Let's go celebrate your sister's big day. It won't do to keep her waiting."

Checking that she had her invitation and hotel room key in her purse, Lily pushed open the door. She found Severus waiting there patiently, glowering away the attention he was getting from other passing guests. His eyes turned to her the moment she stepped out, twirling before him to showcase her outfit. His eyes skimmed over her form quickly, despite his attention being invited he was still visibly skittish over admiring her so overtly.

"Well what do you think?" she prompted with a knowing cheek-filled grin.

He paused, and for the briefest moment Lily had thought her beauty might have literally taken his breath away. Except his next words brought her back down to earth with the most humbling of suddenness.

"I preferred you without make up."

She glared, aghast. Thirty minutes of work and he dismisses it all without any sugar-coating. He quickly backpedalled. "I mean, you look beautiful already. Why did you have to change anything? Cosmetics make you look… artificial."

Her father sighed as he stepped forward to lay a meaty hand upon Severus' shoulder. "I think it's about time you and I had a talk about the secret to a long and successful marriage."

* * *

Snape had never been to a wedding before, much less a muggle one. However, after this experience he was eternally grateful to have been denied for so long. A greater waste of time over ceremony and pomp he had never experienced.

He had sat scowling in the pews for what seemed like an eternity as Petunia, dolled up in the most untasteful pile of ruffled white, stood before her elephantine betrothed. Before them stood some equally abhorrently dressed muggle man who talked long and winding circles about the matter. How difficult could it be to pronounce a man and woman wed?

But eventually, time moved on, and the pact was made official. Petunia flocked off arm in arm with her newly anointed husband followed by her tittering pack of yellow frocked bridesmaids.

Snape noticed Lily watching them with something akin to longing, a touch of sadness in her green eyes. She wasn't asked to be a bridesmaid by her harpy of a sister, and Snape knew not how to console her of that. Silence was his only answer to her unhappiness, and that thought did not sit well with him.

Petunia's ire was apparent too in the reception hall. Petunia and her husband took centre seat in a crowd comprised of her father and her closest friends, as well as her husband's colleagues and a woman so hefty she could only be a close relative of that elephantine man. Even a bulldog got a seat at that table, causing there to be no doubt as to the intention when she arranged for her sister to be sat at the table furthest from hers, with all the relatives that could barely be recalled.

"Haven't seen you since you were a tiny little lass." An elderly lady made pleasant enough small chat to her distant relative. "Do you remember me, Lily?"

An awkward smile passed the girl's lips. "Apologies. No." How could she? If the lady hadn't seen Lily since she was little, then the same must apply the other way around. Snape struggled to not voice that thought, it did him no good to antagonise Lily's relatives.

"I'm your Great Aunt Maurice. Your mother's mother's brother's wife."

"Oh Great-Aunt Maurice!" Lily exclaimed with a bright smile, Snape could not tell whether she was being genuine.

Either way the elderly woman seemed satisfied. "Last I heard of you, you were finishing grade-school. Which secondary school did you end up attending? A public School I hope."

"St Mary's." Lily answered without a moment's hesitation. A well-practiced lie to be sure, Snape could appreciate its delivery.

"A Catholic school," the lady tutted. "Your father's insistence I'll bet." For whatever reason religion tended to be a touchy subject among muggles. With a dissatisfied huff she turned her attention upon Snape. "And who's this young man you brought with you?"

Lily grinned as she threaded their fingers, dispelling any doubt within those questioning eyes. "This is Severus, my fiancé."

Raised eyebrows appeared around the table. Nobody said a word in the contrary, but Snape lived too long to be so naïve as to believe that silence came judgement free.

"He's certainly…" But then the entre arrived, and Great-Aunt Maurice could not look more relieved to be spared the burden of finishing that statement.

A serving of crepes appeared before Lily, seeming to set right for her all that was wrong about the day.

"Holy smokes, look at the fanciness of these hotcakes!" Lily grinned as she prodded her serving with her fork.

"It's called a crepe," Snape informed her as he received his. Lobster filling. The single fanciest meal he'd had this lifetime. His previous one had several instances of supping with the Malfoys so he'd had some experience with fine dining.

Lily could not care less about semantics. "It's a hotcake to me," she muttered as she took a hefty bite. She was by no means a messy eater, but her less than perfect manners would still have sent Narcissa into fits of disgruntlement and nose wrinkling distaste.

With his fork piercing the spilling end of his folded crepe, Snape used a spoon to separate the fold and folded the piece perfectly upon the utensil. Dessert eating etiquette, but wholly appropriate for a soft hors d'oeuvres.

"I get why you're dating. You're a rich bloke, aren't you?" A male guest commented from across the table, some distant unknowable cousin of Lily's to be sure.

That idea got Great Aunt Maurice to warm up a little more. "Of course! Public school. Are you still attending?"

"Yes," Snape replied before taking a bite, excusing him from elaborating further. If everyone's under the wrongful assumption that he was from a wealthy background then let them. He had no desire to confess his poverty to utter strangers and lying by omission was the most comfortable of lies.

Another guest turned her confused attention upon the conversation. "Strange. I heard from Vernon that he's some sort of stage magician."

Well that was an insulting insinuation, even by Petunia standards. "And he's the most reliable source of news, I'm certain," he grumbled sardonically, not at all tempering the bite in his tone of voice.

"Severus," Lily cautioned in a low voice. Her sister's wedding was not the place to air out grievances.

"That Vernon is an impressive man, however." Great Aunt Maurice conversed as if she did not detect the antagonism in Snape's voice. "An assistant director already at his age. Petunia is set for a comfortable lot in life."

Lily did not even set a glance her sister's way as she muttered frostily, "I wish her the best."

"Oh, your fiancé will do fine too I'm certain. Old money is just as good as new money I'm sure. Better, some would say."

Lily rolled her eyes. "I don't love him for his money." The single most ridiculous assurance she had ever had to make.

"Of course not dear," Maurice reassured her with a proffer to toast with her champagne glass. "To true love and all that." While the male relative muttered under his breath about pretty girls and something to do with prospecting.

Slowly, dinner passed. A heavy main followed that rich entre, and Snape could envision himself regretting his intake later. He was honestly quite relieved when dessert came, it signalled the end to feasting. He had no intention of eating the portion of the flambéed peach tart placed before him, but he purposefully ordered it knowing Lily would take it off his hands.

Youngsters and their sweets. He did not remember ever having the taste for it. Another reminder of what distance in age and experience lay between them. However, even if he were so inclined to overlook any moral obligations in the matter, even after several solid years' worth of hard work he doubted he could afford even half of what was on display today. Especially not with the expected salary of an immediate graduate. Not if he wished to provide and maintain a home and comforts as well.

This was a conversation he'd already had with Lily. One that precipitated into a day's worth of moodiness.

" _Let's marry straight after graduation,"_ Lily had suggested, not long after he had proposed. That had precipitated a long and arduous discussion on why that was not practical on a monetary standpoint. Not even going into the dubious moral qualms about marrying so young, money was already going to be tight in their young family, especially when he was bringing next to nothing into this relationship. Only the clothes on his back and the promise of a better future.

Though he had no doubt he would eventually be able to deliver, that would do nothing to fill their bellies or put a roof over their heads in any immediate sense. That wasn't even counting the war that was shadowing the horizon, and his knowledge of how that would very likely disrupt the building of his future. The wisest course would then be to postpone it indefinitely, until all had settled around them.

But that idea did not sit well with Lily. An argument ensued where she could offer no better reasoning then that she loved him dearly, another lovely thought that cannot fill a belly. In the end, however, she did make one level-headed suggestion. That they use the funds her father saved for her tertiary education on their wedding instead. The wizarding world did not have a magical equivalent to university, and her father had already suggested to gift it to her in galleons as a graduation gift. It would be enough to cover a small ceremony, not nearly enough for something this sized, but it would be enough, she said.

But that was a suggestion that could not sit reasonably with Snape's pride. A grand reminder that he was unable to provide her anything. Useless in every sense of the word, a plague on her life. She could have had so much better...

He felt sickened by that thought. She had married Potter in his last life, a memory that blackened his heart each time he touched upon it. But he could not deny that vile boy could have at the very least provided her stability and comfort Snape could only dream about.

There was no solution to be had that day, not with both of their tempers rubbed raw. But for her it faded quickly for her into distant memory, not brought up again between them thereafter.

But Snape had been a man who could never let go. The memory remained, chewing at him from the inside out. Reminding him harshly of his responsibilities to her, no matter how much he wished to discard his pride and take the easy route. To seal their lives irrevocably, and to have her bound to him in true.

Perhaps for the first time in his life, his pride sat upon the side of his moral compass, for without it he was certain his selfishness would have overturned any decision to wait.

Perhaps it was fortunate that the wedding was such a sour event, for Snape could not imagine a sensitive soul like Lily not picking up on his shifting mood.

The meal had ended and tables were being moved back to clear a dance floor in the middle. Petunia took to it with her whale of a husband, partaking in a slow waltz. After the first few dances, couples began to join in, a good thing too perhaps as Vernon looked as if he was teetering on the brink. Even the most paced of motion seemed to take its toll upon the man's sedentary bulk.

Snape glanced to Lily, wondering if he ought to invite her to dance. They had danced only once before, to music unsuited for the waltz. He proved himself skilful in the craft, while Lily proved she had never touched a lesson. He supposed McGonagall never found a reason to school her charges on the art of dance, while Snape took his lessons under the tutelage of purebloods. Another gift he received from Lucius a lifetime ago.

Steeling himself for the expected stares, Snape stood and offered his hand. "Shall we?"

The smile was instant. Not even the least bit self-conscious about dismal past attempts. She placed her hand upon his offered palm and allowed him to lead her to the floor, smiling as he placed his hand upon her waist.

Snape could not fight his encroaching smile as he led her in slow turning dance. Her feet followed his, following the pattern of his movements with small hesitant shadowing steps. Not as clueless as she had been their first dance together, but certainly not as self-assured in her clumsy movements as when she was surrounded by her friends and peers. He took her through those slow pivoting steps, steering her deftly away from the meanderings of other dancing couples.

With the music drawing to a close, their movements drew them back to their table. Sitting in Lily's seat was her father, seemingly discarding protocols to sit with the less celebrated members of their family.

"… My household would be quiet indeed. But their mother would have been proud." The man turned his smiling eyes upon his daughter, embraced in the arms of the man who he had blessed to marry her.

Without a word, the man motioned for Snape to approach, causing him to pause a beat and almost tripping Lily in his misstep. "I knew you can't be perfect!" she commented with a grin as if delighted by this discovery that her fiancé was human like everyone else.

With a quick step backwards, Snape ended their dance. She looked mildly disappointed, and slightly worried as if suspecting her leading comments to have precipitated this hasty end to merriment. But her confusion cleared when her fiancé led her back to their table and to her waiting father.

"I noticed you didn't come up to congratulate your sister once," her father said with a light bite to his tone.

Not to be outdone on pettiness, Lily quipped back, "I noticed Petunia's put me on the furthest table."

The old gent sighed a heartfelt sigh. "It's your sister's wedding, Lily. I know she can be a bit…" He couldn't quite finish that description, changing tact with his sentence. "She's your sister, Lily. And if you can't be above it all for her on her wedding day, then lord knows how things could ever settle between the two of you."

It was a childish streak to hold onto such pettiness, something Snape was guilty of indulging in no matter his age. To her grand credit, Lily however relented to her father's point. "… Alright. I'll go wish Petunia the best." She looked a little sour as she said it, but Snape knew better than to really believe she held onto any real resentment over that concession.

"Wonderful. How about I dance you over to her? She's still sitting in that corner to keep company with that wheezing husband of hers." Her father held out his hand to his giggling child. He offered a smile to Snape, and a light humour upon his voice. "Sorry Severus, but I'm afraid I'm taking my daughter off your hands for this dance." And with that, the old man spun off, taking Lily along the dance floor in a slow but expert step. A skill every man of his generation probably learned.

Snape sunk back into his seat and watched his fiancé keep time to her father's slower but exacting steps. Dancing amongst friends and family that Snape did not know, nor cared to truly meet. This was their world, and he a stranger.

He watched her move, more graceful than she had felt in his arms. Her smile was bright, despite the banality of the event and the obvious insult her sister intended, she did not seem at the least bit jilted by the experience.

Dressed in her red silks, and painted up like a doll, she swept across the uncluttered hall. She was radiance incarnate. Joy to behold. Though the wedding was not hers, there was no doubt as to who the jewel of the event was. It didn't take much imagination to understand why Petunia did not want her sister by her side at her wedding.

He wanted her to have as much, if not more. He wanted to give her what she deserved. But he could never give her a wedding like this, and the thought clenched at Snape's heart.

* * *

Lily heaved a frustrated sigh as she snuck through the back door of her home. Thankfully night had fallen in the sleepy town of Cokeworth and should the loud crack of her apparition have woken her neighbours, they wouldn't see anything in the gloom of darkness.

Of all the scatter-brained things to do, she had forgotten to pack her sleep clothes, and damned if she was going to do it bare on hotel sheets. Though the establishment seemed quite prim, Lily didn't have it in her to be so utterly brazen in somewhere unfamiliar. After much bleary-eyed deliberation, Lily simply threw her belongings into a bag, left a note for her father and Apparated back home.

Two consecutive pops later, and Lily found herself slipping through the screen door into her darkened house through the laundry room. She was thankful all her apparition practice had shortened the trip considerably. The creaks this old house tickled her fancies at hauntings and possible Lethifold infestations. It didn't help to know the magical world was real when she was home alone. To know the creatures from bed time stories designed to scare little children could actually lurk within the shadows.

Lily paused at the bottom of the stairs, staring hard at a shadowy corner of the ceiling. She thought she saw something flitter in the darkness. With a whisper she flung a ball of light into that corner, illuminating it for a second before the sparks dispersed, revealing a whole lot of nothing and a very paranoid imagination.

She sighed and shook her head as she ascended the steps. Sometimes she wondered why she was sorted into Gryffindor. Her nerves tingle at the silliest things. Hardly a heart of undaunted courage.

But even as she thought that, she froze at her bedroom door, thinking she might have heard a sound that didn't belong to her creaking house. The sound of a voice.

The thought of haunting crossed her mind before she remembered Severus had returned home for the evening and mentally kicked herself for jumping to such flamboyant conclusions. She rolled her eyes at her own silly jumps. "It's just me, Sev," she called, hoping to curb his expected paranoia over her less than expected presence in the house.

No answer.

She hadn't thought much of it as she pushed into her room and lit her candlewick. She could have used the electric lights but after almost half a lifetime of using candlelight, she simply could not get used to the luminescent glare of the lightbulb.

With a tired sigh, Lily stripped down and dressed for the evening, just pleased to be within tangible reach of sleep. But as she pulled back her covers, she heard Severus' voice again from the room next door. Low pitched words she could not quite decipher through the muffle of the walls, but loud enough that she could hear him none-the-less.

"What was that Sev?" Lily called, but again got no response. Who was he talking to?

Lily shuffled back into the hallway and edged to the guestroom, noting the crack under the door was completely dark.

"Severus?" she called hesitantly and pressed her ear to the door, receiving no response. Was he talking in his sleep?

She was about to give up on the endeavour, before she heard him again. This time a low hollow moan, a sound she had never heard pass his lips before. Her name uttered in such a mournful cry.

"Severus?" she whispered, her eyes growing wide. He was having a nightmare, about her. Was it _that_ nightmare?

Pushing into the room, Lily stalked over to the bed, listening intently. His breathing was jagged, as if he was sobbing, his voice sounded in a low muttering.

"I regret…" she heard him whisper as she approached his huddled form. He curled into his blankets, buried so deep that only top half of his head stuck out, his hair spilt wildly across his pillow as if he had been thrashing before he settled.

"Forgive me," he breathed, his low voice causing Lily's heart to jump to her throat. But he wasn't awake, and in some ways that made everything so much worse. His voice filled with such unknowable regret that brought to mind the mournful lamentation she heard within a stairwell one cold midmorning.

"Lily…"

"Sev," she beckoned gently as her fingers stroked through his hair, feeling the dampness of sweat along his hairline. He suddenly stilled at her touch, she waited for him to acknowledge her presence, but only silence greeted her ears. Still asleep, but inexplicably silenced by her touch.

Perhaps, calmed.

Without another moment of deliberation, Lily climbed into his bed and pulled him tightly against her. His breathing shortened, and for a moment Lily feared he might have awakened. But the minutes passed and he did not rouse, instead sinking into a rhythmic breathing so different from his sobbing wracks.

Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply, surrendering to sleep in this unfamiliar bed. Pressed against the warmth of her once familiar friend.

* * *

A/N: He's in for a bit of a surprise...

I got commitments on the usual posting day, so you guys get the chapter one day early. Hurrah!

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

A thank you to a reviewer for correcting my crepe eating etiquette. I'm an uncouth Australian, I have no idea.

Next Update: Saturday 11th August 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 40: A Path to Eternity**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	40. A Path to Eternity

**Chapter 40: A Path to Eternity**

There was something to be said about how vexing Lily's mind could be. Snape had awoken that morning to find her in his bed, draped about him in a most alluring way, and it was all he could do to temper his mortifying response. After slipping quickly away, Snape spent the majority of his waking morning bent over his coffee and wracking his brain over how this came to be.

He didn't sleepwalk, otherwise he'd have tripped the wards he cast within the Slytherin dorms. He hadn't bothered to ward or silence himself this time as he thought for certain he'd be sleeping in private. It never occurred to him that Lily would take it upon herself to tangle into his sheets.

He sat there for a good hour, pondering over whether anything had happened. He had been having sweet dreams for once, of the less than appropriate nature. But when he awoke, and discovered at least half of it had been real, he really worried about how much of it was just his too vivid imagination. She was still clad in her soft cotton pyjamas; no marks marred her skin. He couldn't have done half of the things he imagined. That thought was a relief, and somehow a little disappointing.

His coffee had been cold by the time Lily, garbed warmly in her bathrobes, found her way downstairs.

"Morning," she yawned as she summoned toast, not even the least abashed that she had awoken in his bed.

Snape couldn't even look at her without colouring, so he mumbled his greeting into his cold coffee, taking a long deep draw so he did not have to meet expectations to converse immediately.

Shooting a glance at her he noticed her lips quirk upwards, taking enjoyment from his obvious discomfort. "Aren't you even going to ask what happened last night?" He was beginning to believe his girl had a sadistic streak, or at the very least took some joy out of keeping him high strung.

"It wasn't as exciting as you're making it to be I'm certain," he mumbled, going in for another sip.

She puffed out her lip in a mockery of a pout. "Aww, you hurt my feelings. And I thought you were excellent."

He almost choked on his coffee. "Lily!"

"I'm kidding, geez," she giggled. "You should see the look on your face."

Snape's eyes narrowed, prompting Lily to soften on her vicious teasing and offer him something earnest. "You were… talking in your sleep, having a nightmare, Sev. _That_ nightmare, I think."

His blood ran cold. "How much did you… hear?"

The smile on her lips died, a furrow touched her elegant brows. "You were… upset. You said you regret it. But you shouldn't, Sev."

A warmth tangled with the chill in Snape's breast. So grateful he felt for her affirming words, but also with frustration, for she knew not what she spoke of. His sins were not for this Lily to forgive. But one winter evening, this Lily had learned the truth, and she had said much the same. Though she slept within a crystal vial, he hoped somehow her words rang true for them both. For all three, perhaps.

She met his eyes determinedly. "That's just a dream. And you haven't done me any wrong."

Snape smiled, his heart beat just that little bit faster for her offered words. However any reply that might have been forming on his tongue was cut off abruptly by an unexpected entrance.

"I should think not, young lady." Her father's voice startled them both. He strode through the hallway, luggage in hand. Neither of them had even heard the muggle man enter it seemed. Surprisingly deft for a man his size.

"Dad. You're back early. I hope the drive was comfortable." Lily put up a bright and bubbly smile.

The older muggle man was not at all taken by his daughter's play acting. "Nice try young lady. Care to explain why you ditched your room last night?"

"Forgot my pjs," she answered, as if that explained everything.

Her father rubbed his eyes in a tired motion. "And rather than to buy yourself sleepwear from the hotel front, you thought you'd fly across half the country?"

Without an ounce of contrition, Lily rolled her eyes. "I didn't fly, dad. What an archaic idea of witches you have in your mind."

"And I'm certain the fact that Severus was here alone had nothing to do with your decision?" The suspicion in the man's voice was palpable.

"Why no." Lily's voice held a suspicious tone of sincerity. "It hadn't even crossed my mind when I made the jump. Honest."

Her father turned his gaze upon the boy in question. "Severus?"

"Nothing happened," he answered, almost flinching at how suspicious his honest answer sounded.

With a frown and a sigh, the concerned father sat back into his chair and waved his hand in dismissal. "Fine. I'll give you two the benefit of the doubt."

"Breakfast, dad?" Lily offered in optimistic truce, summoning slices of brown bread from the packet.

"Hotcakes, please," her dad mumbled, as the newspaper flew through the window and landed upon the table before him. Two servings of transfigured hotcakes sat upon a porcelain plate in short order, along with a mug of coffee.

He took a light sip from his steaming mug and unfurled his paper. "Will you two be staying for lunch today? Or are the both of you dashing off back to school after our late breakfast?"

"Would you rather we stayed?" Lily asked, mild sheepishness touching her composure.

"I always welcome your presence, Lily." Her kindly father smiled. "When you leave I'll be counting the days till Christmas Break." He glanced up at the young man across the table. "You're coming too, right Severus?"

Snape glanced up from the brown toast that had materialised during the conversation. "Christmas is your family's event. I do not wish to intrude."

A strange look passed between father and daughter. "Umm, Sev?" Lily's lips twitched in the outline of a smile despite the concerned frown upon her brow. "You're family too."

Her father nodded in affirmation. "And I would not have you miss another Christmas with family."

* * *

As Potions drew to a close, Slughorn brought out the list for Slytherin stay-on over the Christmas Break. Snape could not help but feel a little at odds for not being one of those who stood to add his name to the list.

"Going home this year?" Lester asked from down the bench as he packed his scales away. Beside him, his partner Urquart wiped down the bench in a show of good Potioneering etiquette.

"Oh he's coming home with me," Lily answered from Snape's side, no longer awkward over the idea of speaking openly to Slytherins. There were few that could brew to a standard of himself, but Lily was a very close second. Even had he not craved her proximity, there would have been no question as to who he would prefer to be paired with.

Beside her, her two friends Marlene and Susan exchanged glances. "And your dad's alright with all this whole… thing?" her current best friend asked, making vague gestures in the air.

"Oh dad's totally bought into it," Lily replied, linking arms with her boyfriend beside her.

Snape didn't buy into this whole public show of affection business, but he was becoming comfortable with small gestures. But if she was hoping he'd ever attempt to initiate a public kiss, she'd be waiting for many years to come.

"So when's the wedding?" Susan asked in a tone of voice obviously meant for the obnoxious spectrum.

If Lily detected it, she gave no indication in her answering reply. "Right after graduation, we're projecting."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Actually-"

"After graduation," she snapped, turning an upturned brow at him. Public was not a place to bring forth this well-worn argument.

Snape cast his eyes downwards to his bag, carefully loosening the fragile buckle. His bag was living on borrowed time by his vigilance and care, and five or so strengthening charms looped about its seams. It was battered and worn, and struggling beyond its capabilities, but it will survive the year by will or by hope.

"I certainly hope when you send out your invitations that you wouldn't forget your favourite Professor," Slughorn boomed before them, causing Snape's eyes to whip up from his packing.

Laughter rang forth from the delighted girl beside him. "Wouldn't dream of it Professor Slughorn. You can fill out Sev's side of the chapel."

Snape buried the discomfort her words brought about. He did not need everyone to know his distasteful family situation, even by inference. Lily was never the type to make distinctions over public knowledge, and what should remain private. Of course not. People from loving families never understand.

Slughorn, however, gave no indication he heard the implications of Lily's words. "I would certainly be most delighted. What say we have a special Slug Club get together to celebrate the occasion? Say, this weekend?"

"That sounds lovely Professor!"

From the smile on Lily's face, Snape feared she was going to go ahead with that farcical idea. He quickly spoke up to dispel all notion. "We have Head Student duties. We cannot attend." In actuality, he had to start the brewing process for the Wolfsbane this coming weekend, but he at least had enough prudence to distinguish between what sort of information had to be kept to himself.

"Oh my goodness! He's right," Lily gasped. "Christmas decorations go up next week!" It was good that she was playing along. They had agreed to work with their prefects through their collective breaks throughout the rest of next week. Schedule had been set even before they left for that tedious wedding, clearing their weekend for their return to their monthly potioneering schedules. There was something exceedingly satisfying about working in concurrence with his wife-to-be. Both in the brewing arts, and in a well spun lie.

Slughorn seemed none the wiser, beaming with delight over his favourite little slugs. "Of course, of course! Duty always comes first, I say. Soon to be husband and wife, working together for all student welfare. Why, I feel like a proud parent."

 _Parent would have to imply you did some parenting._ Snape thought uncharitably but did not voice those scathing thoughts. He had become used to keeping his acid tongue on the inside.

With a hum that portly professor waddled back to the front end of his classroom, readying the set up for the next class to enter. Lily turned to Snape with a little wink and a nod towards the door. The majority of their companions had already left during the course of the ensuing conversation, with only Marlene remaining.

Apparently she was part of the Slug Club, though Snape's memory did not serve him in this regard. She had been apparently invited over her connections in the Quidditch world, as she had an uncle who played beater opposite of Ludo Bagman on the Wimbourne Wasps. Slughorn hadn't been quick enough to snag the Quidditch champion in his youth but the niece was the next best investment.

"Susan sure slipped out quick," Lily observed to her best friend as Snape slowed a step behind them to allow the girls to walk abreast without his interference.

The blond Gryffindor girl rolled her eyes. "Because Urquart slipped out faster."

"Poor guy." Lily shook her head, then turned and slowed a step, forcefully dragging Snape into the conversation. "Level with me here, Sev. Does Susan really have a chance?"

"No." Snape hadn't even bothered to pretend to consider this question. He had come to respect Urquart for his quiet, reserved ways. He did not believe the boy deserved a prattler for a wife.

"Well you never know, life's full of surprises," Marlene muttered in an awkwardly indirect manner. "Like who would have thought your life would've turned out like it did, Lil's." Snape didn't award her a reply, but he could read between the lines.

To her credit, Lily didn't let those implications pass without a fight. "Sev's a great guy though. I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Surprisingly, I guess I can see that now." Snape's eyebrows darted upwards as that blond girl, Potter's girlfriend, met his eyes with a smile and a nod. "You're not a bad guy, Severus. Treat Lil's right yah hear?"

This was new. But from Lily's smiling eyes, he understands this wasn't an entirely unexpected development. His reputation must have been improving amongst her friends. He did not dislike the idea of putting her life at better ease. "I would not dream of bringing her ill."

"That's what I like to hear, Sevvy." She brought her palm down onto his back in a surprisingly heavy handed pat, actually stumbling the boy to his eternal humiliation. With the increased volume of inter-house interactions, there will be needs to be talk about personal space and how boundaries need to be respected. Slytherins and Gryffindors were not cut from the same cloth.

Lily, however, could not be more delighted over this turnabout. "Maybe next time I bring him to come around to watch your next game!"

Snape was certainly not delighted by that prospect. "I… don't think…"

Mercy came most unexpectedly. "Considering how completely we just whopped Slytherin's arse, I doubt he'd wanna be seen supporting a Gryffindor game," Marlene reasoned most smugly. It was as good an excuse as any. "Just a front row seat to your wedding is good enough for me. I don't suppose my boyfriend is invited, is he?"

"No," Snape replied without even a pause to think. He'll be dead before he invites Potter to his wedding. Or, dead again.

"But we'll totally invite you," Lily reassured hurriedly. "Heck I want you to be my maid of honour!"

"Really?" Marlene's eyes narrowed. "Me? Not your sister?"

"Definitely not my sister," Lily huffed. She was likely still sore over being jilted. But unexpectedly, next words mellowed. "But… I don't want us to drift any further either…"

Silence blanketed the hallway, but after a beat or two, the blond girl looped her arm about the conflicted girl and gifted her sagely advice in her rough candour. "As someone who had older brothers, let me tell you now." Her voice twisted oddly at those words. "Fight for them with every fibre of your being. Make peace before it's too late." An unspoken heaviness between the two girls was palpable. "I appreciate the offer, Lil's, but I'll have to decline. Frocking up as a bridesmaid was never going to be my thing."

His fiancé suddenly enveloped the blond girl in a fierce hug, before both dissolving into a baffling puddle of sobs. Snape sidestepped and stopped, staring awkwardly at the unfolding scenario, unsure as to whether he was expected to say something. He wracked his sharp mind in a vain attempt to understand what was happening but to no avail.

He stood there for almost a full minute before wondering if it might be more prudent to leave them to it. Except he had no desire to leave his Gryffindor fiancé unescorted within Slytherin territory.

With a deep inaudible sigh, Snape made to disturb the girls' obvious private moment. "Excuse me, but perhaps we should… continue up to the surface." And while up there perhaps he'll get a chance to slip away and leave the girls to their baffling exercise.

But there was no such luck as they proceeded down the hallway, and Lily latched onto his arm in an oddly clingy way. "Life's too short to waste on grudges," she muttered, as baffling a thought as it was sudden a statement.

"Thinking of asking dear Petunia to be your Bride's Maid?" Snape asked in a low voice, not chancing the risk of another session of tears.

"Yeah," Lily mumbled, wiping her eyes subtly on his sleeve. Only she could be forgiven for such a transgression.

That tomboy of a girl, Marlene, was wiping her puffy red eyes. "Shit. You better not blab to anybody that I cried, Severus." Surprisingly she appeared comfortable moving onto first name basis with that frigid boy.

"You have my silence. I give you my word," Snape offered, quite intentionally avoiding the use of her name. He did not wish to distance Lily's best friend with formal monikers, but to use her first name so casually would be to invite discomfort upon himself.

They emerged from the darkened dungeon corridor into the cloud cast surface world. The dim greys were enough to provoke bleariness to even the most adaptable eyes. Unfortunately, the first sight to greet Snape's adjusted eyes was that of Potter, looking at the scene with an air of unwelcome concern.

But without a word, he enveloped his girlfriend into a loving embrace, seeming to sense something was of concern without a single word from her. Something Snape realised he had missed, as he felt Lily's arms tighten around his.

* * *

The McKinnons had lost their two elder sons during the course of the summer. It hadn't been something Snape was aware of during the first course of his life.

After their minor breakdown, Lily had explained to Snape what had transpired. A shared moment of consoling over Marlene's loss. It hadn't even been a year since her brothers were buried. Killed at the hands of those Snape would have once joined in the midst of his ravenous fervour. At the very least he could console himself with the fact that the death of the McKinnons was not his direct responsibility. He would have joined too late to have struck down the two brothers and left too soon to have wiped out the rest of the clan.

Other murders, however, was linked directly to the consequences of his actions. Names and faces he could no longer recall. Guilt for those horrors wrought was a long way in the coming, for there had never been any room in his conscience.

Snape had been in a royal brooding rut by the time his patrol came around that night. And to compound his disquiet, his patrol partner was the worst choice of that horrid lot.

"Good evening, Snape. I hope things have been finding you well," came that werewolf's grating false-politeness.

The already agitated Head Boy was not looking forward to three hours' worth of ignoring spurious comradery. "I will tell you this now, Lupin, so there are no misunderstandings. I am in no mood to indulge idle chatter."

To which that cursed boy smiled in his seemingly unoffended way. "I hadn't realised the simple exchange of pleasantries was such a chore for you, Snape."

Snape's eyes narrowed. Ever since Lily's skill in the Wolfsbane steadied itself, Lupin became far bolder in his unavoidable interactions with the frigid Head Boy. It seemed the knowledge that his fate did not rest entirely upon keeping quelled the temper of a known temperamental individual had emboldened his tongue to loosen.

Without a word of reply, the Head Boy took the route learned to him by weeks of repetition. The hope of a peaceful patrol growing more distant by every word that fell from that obnoxious wolf's muzzle.

"Last month's potion was brewed by Dumbledore, did you know that?" came that inane chatter that honestly neither warranted a reply, nor deserved one. Lupin continued as if he hadn't noticed his frosty reception. "But after taking that potion, I felt funny for a few days after. I mean it worked well on the night, but I felt like I had a frog in my throat the day after. A very hot frog."

They rounded the bend, wearing the route of the ground floor. "Not just that, but there was this weird metal-like taste in my mouth that lasted for almost a week. Went to Madam Pomfrey for it, and after testing that I wasn't bleeding on the inside she told me it will go away." Was he actually trying to ask for the Potion Master's advice?

"I mean Dumbledore brewed the potion, and I don't doubt the Headmaster. Not one bit. And for the most part there was nothing wrong with the intended results. Just the after affects were a bit off…" He trailed off, the air was heavy with expectations of an answer.

Snape suppressed a sigh. "First of all, if you wish to ask me about the potion then do not beat about so infuriatingly aimlessly."

The blond boy grinned sheepishly. "You had made it clear you didn't like me… I didn't think a direct questioning would get me answers."

"But at the very least, it would shorten this conversation." Snape set his jaw, just wanting for this aggravating patrol to be over. After a moment of vindicating silence, the Potion Master finally relented a morsel of thought. "It's likely Dragon's Blood."

Lupin's head whipped around. "Excuse me?" Supposedly this boy had a sharp mind but goodness he could be dull.

"Dragons Blood in potions can produce a side effect known as hot-swallowing and a lingering aftertaste." Snape hoped that would be enough to have him left in peace, but he simply was not having any luck of that sort of late.

"Why did he add that? I mean. If you know…" Lupin probed, obviously wording the question in a way to provoke Snape's defensiveness over his absolute command of Potioneering knowledge. He almost refused to rise to that bait. Almost.

"It's has powerful stabilising qualities." Snape had never been good at resisting a challenge on his home field. "You would have known that had you even glanced at Dumbledore's dissertation on the twelve properties of Dragon Blood."

"I know you could use it to clean ovens," Lupin mumbled.

Snape turned his scathing sneer on the boy. "Congratulations. You remember its least practical use of the twelve."

"There was never any doubt you are better than me at this," Lupin offered, laying on the humility thick, but Snape found the comparison more insulting than anything. "Why would Dumbledore need a stabilising agent though?" he continued, not seeming satisfied with what he's already received.

Snape sighed audibly then. "I doubt he needs it. It is far more likely he's pioneering a new method to brew that potion."

"Really? Why? It works already." Lupin's voice was full of chirpy curiosity. He had honestly become too energetic since taking the potion long-term.

With a darkened scowl, Snape refused to answer. He had been more than generous indulging that deplorable boy's idle curiosity. He had thought to add Dragons Blood to the brew from now on to warn the boy off with the threat of future discomfort, but the blood of great beasts was a rare and valuable ingredient. Had Snape access to the substance, he would not be wasting it on the likes of this werewolf.

"You don't need a stabilising agent, right?" Lupin didn't seem to get the message. "I mean I heard it was a tough brew to brew, but your potions never had an aftertaste. It tasted like soggy off-cabbage going down, but it never lingered. I can't imagine a genius like Dumbledore needing extra assistance in a field where his student did not."

Little did Lupin know that Snape was the superior potioneer by accident of rebirth, not that it was any of Lupin's business. "Have you thought perhaps he was pioneering a method to ease its difficulty of production for the likes of dunderheads like you?" Considering how extensively they had wrought their destruction on their last attempt, a little dragon blood after taste should be the least they have to endure. The first-floor girl's bathroom may never be rid of the lingering odour. Yet another reason for that washroom to be avoided, on top of the intrusive wailing that emanates from within. At the very least death had spared the ghostly Myrtle her olfactory senses.

"So it's easier to make now?" Lupin's eyes lit.

"Doubt it. Especially not for you," Snape sneered. "If I recall you couldn't even brew an adequate Wiggenweld."

That little detail didn't seem to deter the boy. "But say, Peter?"

With great effort Snape suppressed his irritation. "I highly doubt that slow witted boy could keep with the fact paced demands of this potion, even with a stabilising agent. If you wish to continue to count on your safe monthly passing, then I suggest you release these fool notions rattling within your skull and leave this to the proven competent."

Silence fell between them. Blissful tranquil silence. He began to suspect now that it wasn't to last so he revelled in it while he could.

The cursed boy broke the silence as Snape knew he would. "Thank you for everything you're doing for me. I just didn't want to… I thought if I could find a way to not inconvenience you every month…"

"If you are worried that I might simply stop without warning, then don't." Snape ground his teeth, hating how conciliatory it sounded. "I gave my word so I will carry it out. I, at least, am genuine at my core." Which is an ironic trait for a man who spent the better part of one of his lives as a spy.

A smile pulled across that blond boy's pale face. "We were all wrong about you, Snape," he offered, before lapsing into a blissful silence.

For once it seemed the peace would hold, with neither boy willing to broach it. For Snape's part, it came as a welcome relief. However, as they mounted the steps to the grand stairwell a great calamitous clanking and roaring startled the patrollers into alertness.

The translucent form of the Bloody Baron soared past, spewing apologies and lamentations upon the wispy trail of a ghostly lady. The Grey Lady whipped past as fast as her ghostly form could take, screaming, "Get away from me!" in shrill, near hysterical cries.

"Please, Helena! I regret it all! I didn't mean to-!" The cries faded into the depth of the darkened halls. Snape stared after the fading trail of the tumultuous spectres, feeling the pit of guilt within his gut over his own role in this upheaval.

"What is going on with those two?" Lupin asked in what seemed to be a rhetorical way. "This wasn't the first time this happened."

Snape could not stop himself from asking, "When else did this happen?"

"Not too long ago," Lupin answered with an uncertain frown. "Three days ago perhaps? Past curfew. The only people who saw it were those that could be bothered to turn up to a midnight practical in Astronomy."

Snape lapsed into silence, a frown beaded through his brows. There were implications to be had over a fuss amongst the ghosts, and more so for the likes of Helena Ravenclaw. How many of the Dark Lord's eyes watched from the shadows of the school? And what implications would he draw from strife amongst those that hold knowledge of his past deeds.

Worse still, should his meddling delay Dumbledore's tasks… should his role in events result in the worst to come…

His vows would be dust once more.

* * *

"So you agree? Something's off about him?" Lily inquired quite insistently to her friend and fellow prefect as they laid decorations down the first floor corridor. She and Remus were starting early, having both had a free period between Charms class and lunch that Friday afternoon.

"We almost had a cordial conversation," Remus replied with a musing tone. "The idea was absurd at this time last year. Or even half a year ago, really."

Lily nodded, agreeing with the notion as she tapped frost onto a passing windowpane. "I know right? Something's up with him!"

"I actually thought it might be your influence softening him, Lily," Remus offered as he laced mistletoe under an archway.

The girl didn't bother to humble her reply. "Oh I know he's been bending over backwards for me. He's sweet, but never pliable on things that matter to him. Like… you know. You guys."

"I quite like this new turnabout. I wasn't that keen about staying as tepid nemesis with the man brewing my medication." Remus threw his opinion out in the open. A refreshing take on the boy. He was looking haler by the month, mentally and physically, and it was so heartening to see.

With a light swish of her wand, a suit of armour rattled on the spot, before bursting into a bout of Christmas carols. She laid preserved frost along the seams of its rivets as it bellowed about a deer with a red nose.

"Right, I get that he's become more pleasant to you guys. And easier to get on with to the average citizen." She tapped tinsel over the window arches, lacing it finely with the edging of the stonework. "But honestly it's worrying me. What about his mental health? I don't want him to fall to bits without warning one day."

"Did he give you the impression that he would?" Remus asked as he turned his curiosity was touched with a hint of worry.

Lily charmed an entrance way to snow upon passers-by with minimal effort. "Honestly? No. He's all broody and sweet, and hot and cold. Nothing's really changed with me." She swished her wand in an arch and threw a holly wreath upon a classroom door. "But he recently had a bit of a breakdown over bad dreams he had. Then he got better and I thought that was that, except then I found out, just the other night that he was still wrestling with night terrors."

"I don't think he'd appreciate you telling me this," Remus muttered sheepishly as he conjured a snowman pattern onto the frosted window.

"Aww you won't tell anyone. You know how to keep a secret." Lily rolled her eyes as she mimicked his pattern in tinsel over that window. "I don't even think he hates you as much as he hates James or Sirius."

"Oh I beg to differ." Remus muttered with a nervous rub of the back of his neck.

Sev had a werewolf phobia, that much was apparent, but surely he didn't actually hate the poor boy who carried it. Remus honestly had no choice in the matter, and his life was the one turned upside down by his affliction. Sev should be the last person to judge another for circumstances outside their control.

She shook herself and pushed the thought to the back of her head. "I just wanted to lay my troubles on someone. Someone that I know for sure wouldn't blab. Or worry like my dad. Watching him writhe under that nightmare really rattled me."

"Watched? Wait what?" Remus' faded blond brows all but disappeared into his hairline. "I thought Susan said you two were waiting for marriage."

Of course Susan would have spread everything said in their room that night as far and wide as her big mouth could take it. "That's what you took from that? That I've been around Sev while he's slept?" She felt a bit of red tinging her cheeks. "He stays over at my household you know, and he's got to sleep sometime."

"Hey. Do what you want. I didn't mean it in any negative way." Remus quickly backpedalled.

"Mind. Out. The gutter!" Lily couldn't stop the blush from overwhelming her now. "We haven't. Of course we haven't. I mean, it's not that I don't want to, or that he doesn't want to. He promised dad that he won't and he's not budged an inch since then."

An odd smile touched her fellow prefect's lips. "He's the kind to keep his promises, isn't he?"

"You have no idea," Lily sighed in a long suffering way. "Not a look laid inappropriately since then. I'm beginning to get worried he won't even be in the mood come wedding night."

Remus recoiled as if paddled in the face. "Whoa. Too much information. Too much! Didn't need to know. Don't want to think about it!"

"Don't want to know? Shouldn't have pried," Lily huffed, feeling the redness in her cheeks flare again. "Besides I know you'll keep my worries on the hush. Just between us girls okay?"

"Yes of course. I wouldn't dream of- wait. Us _girls_?" Remus raised a faded eyebrow in a mild look of aghast. "Do you see me as one of your girlfriends?"

Lily smiled a sheepish smile. "More like… you're really easy to talk to. Not like other guys. Umm… That's… that's not a bad thing."

But the boy's face fell, the damage had been done. The male ego was a fragile thing.

* * *

As Alchemy drew to a close, Snape packed away his equipment. With hours of study under his belt, the foundations of Alchemy were no longer a mystery to the scholarly young man. Instead the far more intangible realm of memories and their unspecified function provided his headache fuel in this realm.

Another class dedicated to understanding the tenuous line that threads beneath the alchemical arts and Snape felt no closer to his breakthrough than he had been half a year ago. At this rate the second war would have begun before he makes his transmutation attempt on that substance.

He suppressed an agitated sigh. This was going to bother him throughout Ancient Runes next period, as it had every Friday afternoon since his new year. That theory-heavy class would not be going well for him if it weren't for the fact he had been utilising runes practically all year to delve into scrolls of the alchemical workings throughout history. The closest he'd gotten to his conundrum so far was of some ancient Trojan wizard synthesising a vial of Manticore venom during some ancient siege. Unfortunately, it remained only an unconfirmed account of the matter as his records ended with the fall of that city. At the very least his venom seemed to have left its legacy, felling some grand hero from the besieging army.

Before he hefted his fraying bag, Snape paused a beat to collect himself. Preserving his backpack through its last days with care and duty. Never will he lose himself to frustration so badly that he would forget the care he owed it. A strange allegory to his duties in life, but the welfare of his backpack was honestly far easier to keep track of.

In that moment's respite however, the two-way mirror flickered back to life. "Ah I had almost forgotten. Before I go, Mr Snape, I still have yet to pass to you your justly earned accolades." In his palm was held a wooden box with a golden medallion sitting upon its silken bed.

Snape released his bag back gently to its resting position. "It honestly had slipped my mind," he replied, eyeing the flat disk of false gold with less than exuberant interest.

With a slow nod, Flamel set down the token and spoke in his soft yet depthless voice. "It's quite silly isn't it? A gold medal to honour you when no real gold had actually been used. You would be forgiven to think that alchemists don't actually understand the importance of material and symbolism."

"My… lack of enthusiasm was not due to that." Snape murmured. "The honour of the award is great in of itself. I am most humbled by the recognition…"

But juxtaposed to the frustrating wall he had hit within the craft, he did not feel the award deserved. It reminded him of all that was expected of him, and all that he was failing to deliver.

"Worried about your impending wedding then?" Flamel asked with his serene smile. The ancient alchemist was not a prying man as Snape understood, so this semi-personal question took him by surprise. "Albus had told me about it over tea last month. I had been meaning to congratulate you since but alas it kept slipping my mind. Live for six hundred years and one tends to go senile."

A sliver of annoyance ticked at Snape's mind at the thought of Dumbledore sharing news that was not his to share, but part of him could not care less over this breach of privacy. This was his joy to take in this lifetime, for once good things were lining in his favour, and nobody was standing in the way of his happiness. Lily was to be his, and only his morals stood in his way. Patience willing, there would be happiness in this lifetime.

"I thank you for your felicitations. She is the joy of my life," Snape replied graciously, truly humbled by the ancient man's interest.

A gentle smile touched those golden eyes, sparkling with life an ancient man knew better than most mere mortals. "Marriage will not be easy, young Snape. No matter what joy she brings to your life, you both will meet your share of obstacles." The ancient wizard paused with misted eyes as if reminiscing as he spoke. "My wife Perenelle and I have been married for just over six centuries. Some say that was my true miracle. For what is eternal life compared to finding eternal peace with another?"

A sparkle appeared in those ancient golden eyes. Almost a chuckle from that enigmatic figure. "As a man who has lived longer than any that had walked this earth, this is the greatest advice I can give. Cherish her, Severus. No matter the centuries that have passed, so long as lifeblood flows in your veins. If she is your joy, then never let her fade."

"I do not plan to do otherwise," the young man replied with a bow of his head.

Flamel graced him with a similar gesture. "To you my talented student. A wedding gift that befits your station." The man raised wooden box once more, removing the golden medallion from where it sat. "For you are without a doubt an alchemist, and only its greatest symbol will suffice."

A blood red stone appeared in the man's hand, drawing wide the watching eyes of his student from beyond the mirror. "You recognise this, do you not, student?"

"The Philosopher's Stone," Snape breathed, having never in the past set eyes upon the object in true. He had guarded the relic, for a year, but never once had the object passed his eyes.

With smiling eyes, the ancient alchemist touched the tip of the mythical artefact to the centre of the medallion. Without wand nor incantation, the metal changed before Snape's very eyes. Colouring with a resplendent shine and softening in rigidity.

"Gold is the alchemist's metal. For it had always symbolised the core goals of alchemy. To create wealth beyond limits. Wealth of material. Wealth of life. Gold is the symbol of eternity." With a soft tilt of his hand, Flamel allowed the medallion to slip back onto its silken bedding. Snapping the box shut, Flamel passed his hand over it and it slipped out of sight. Just as a heaviness dropped into Snape's pocket.

"A gold medal, true to its name. My wedding gift to you, Severus, my student. Do with it as you will. I wish for you to find your peace with this woman who brings you so much joy."

* * *

After lunch, Remus had left for Ancient Runes in a strange mood of dejection. It wasn't obvious as the boy never made a fuss, but Lily was certain Remus had somehow found her affectionate words somewhat worrying to his self-image.

With the worry of two men's worth of mental states, Lily set off on her lonely quest to decorate the hallways. It would be an hour before either of her favourite Student Body leaders would join her, but it would be a long hour to spend alone wandering the first floor. She and Remus had put up a heroic effort earlier, but the distraction of their conversation resulted in very little work finished.

Edging tinsel along the frame of a door, however, Lily heard a low sobbing from within. Within Lily's mind came the image of Hallowe'en, when she found Severus hiding in the dark, holding his head. She didn't think it was very likely to be him, he should have been at Ancient Runes alongside Remus at this moment. Even so, student support was part of her job description, and crying alone never bode well for anybody.

Cracking the door open, Lily called hesitantly into the darkness, "Hello?"

A sob sounded again, but this time she could hear the distinct hollow reverberation in this voice. Lily's eyes widened as she picked out the indistinct figure in the darkness. The ghostly spectre of a long-dead lady floated above a desk, her head bowed in ethereal tears.

Lily pushed the door open further. "Are you alright?" she asked, uncertain if it was even possible for her to help, or if it was even welcome.

A small gasp sounded through the sound of muted sobs, the air rippled with the movement of that nearly invisible spirit. "Wait!" Lily called out, sensing more than seeing the ghost making to flee. "You're the Grey Lady aren't you?" Her eyes strained to pick out the figure in the gloom of the darkened classroom. "Helena Ravenclaw?"

"Helena?" The woman's soft voice reverberated from the darkness. "How do you know of that name? I have not spoken of that to you. I have not spoken to you at all."

A flush of self-consciousness touched Lily's cheeks. It really seemed like she had pried into private affairs. "Sorry. My name is Lily Evans. And it wasn't you who told me. I simply overheard the Baron…"

His mournful lamentations sounded in her mind. Regret spilt forth for wrongs wrought upon his Helena. Lily suppressed the shiver as that memory brushed against another of a fitfully sleeping Severus. The mournful words they uttered sounding eerily similar in her mired mind.

But then her ghostly companion flared, incensed by Lily's words. "How dare he speak of me? How dare he allow my name pass his vile murderous tongue? Is it not enough that I must endure his eternal presence?"

The anger in her voice chilled Lily's heart. The woman was murdered by a man who claimed he loved her, a betrayal most severe. But no matter his soul shaking regrets, no matter how he repents, no matter the centuries passed, she would not forgive him for that act. Lily could not even begin to understand the emotions that bound them, nor could she really try. She could only offer consolation with all the gentleness she possessed.

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry for what happened to you, Helena," Lily offered in a soft quiet voice. She stepped into the classroom and allowed the door to swing shut behind her. With a gentle swish of her fingers, she summoned a light wordlessly to sit upon her palm, chasing away the shadows of the classroom and revealing the ghostly form of the Grey Lady.

The ghostly figure floated down as if to sit upon the desk before the young student before her. Helena Ravenclaw was a tall slim figure, as beautiful in death as she was certainly in life. Though Lily could not see her downcast eyes clearly in the still-shadowy classroom, she did not doubt she would find sadness within them. For nobody become ghosts without powerful emotions to bind them.

Lily spoke into that dark silent room, uncertain how to offer comfort to the dead. "The Baron had confessed to me that your death was his fault. He made no efforts to soften or misdirect the burden of his liability." She paused, a beat, uncertain what sort of point she was trying to make. Thankfully, Helena spoke, relieving her of that conundrum.

"He killed me. Killed me in a fit of rage. No amount of remorse could excuse him of that action," Helena said with fire in her hollow voice. "He ran me through with his sword when I told him I will not return with him. Killed me for rejecting his advances!" Helena brushed open the front of her cloak, revealing a bloody wound over her ghostly heart. "What sort of love did he possess to have done what he did to me? What sort of forgiveness does he believe he deserves?"

"He deserves none," Lily replied without hesitation. Her heart ached for this dead woman, she could not fathom the betrayal she must have felt. "I do not understand everything, Helena. But what he did was wrong. And you deserve peace from him." She paused, turning her next question over in her mind and wondering if it would be rude to ask. "Why… don't you move on?"

The ghostly woman's turned away as if she took offence. Lily quickly backpedalled, worried the spectre would leave upon her misworded question. "Sorry, I didn't mean to be impertinent. I just don't really understand how ghosts work. If it is the resentment of your murder keeping you from moving on… would it not be in your best interest to let go so that you need never see him again?"

Silence fell between them, and for the longest moment Lily believed she had erred greatly in her choice of words. What would she know of death and betrayal? Why did she think she was qualified to offer a millennia old ghost advice?

"My anchor to this world is not my resentment," Helena finally spoke with a slow shake of her ghostly head. "It is my regret. My regret that I had not been there to say goodbye to my mother."

Lily's heart leapt before falling, that sentiment striking too close to her core. "I'm so sorry," she breathed, knowing too well how hard it was to lose a mother.

"She had asked for me, my mother," the spectre continued. "On her deathbed, and I, the stubborn child refused her call. When the Baron came for me, it wasn't just a proposition, but also at my mother's request to return me to her ailing side. I regret that I refused to return. That I died so fruitlessly that day and brought woe to the last days of someone who loved me so. I regret…"

Tears ran rivers down Lily's cheeks, brought low by the emotions evoked by the spirit's tale. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea. I'm sorry." Just one ill-made decision, one moment's rashness that brought such heartbreak upon the one she loved most, and such eternal sorrow to herself. This was the fate of a spirit bound in regret, never to meet the object of her lamentation. Rowena Ravenclaw had passed from this world, perhaps expecting she would see her daughter in the great beyond but fated to never meet again.

It was a strange moment as Lily sobbed while Helena stared with dry spectral eyes, her expression soft in the dimness. "She won't ever forgive me, as I would never forgive The Baron. This is my punishment."

"She wouldn't want that!" the sobbing girl cried before she could stop her outburst. "Mothers love their daughters! She obviously loved you! She wanted you by her side on her last days, she loved you! She wouldn't want you to punish yourself! She would forgive you!"

Words she did not have the right to say. Words she could not stop. Lily sobbed as she fought for control of her emotions, unable to reign herself in enough to apologise.

But instead of rebuking her, Helena Ravenclaw smiled. "Thank you. You are very kind, Lily Evans." And with that, the spectre whipped into the air and darted away, leaving the girl with an empty room and a heart filled with heaviness.

* * *

A/N: I just started my new work, guys. I'll try my best to keep to my update schedule but don't be too concerned if I'm late by a few days occasionally. I'll try not to let it happen but it may.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 25th August 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 41: A Sudden Goodbye**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	41. A Sudden Goodbye

**Chapter 41: A Sudden Goodbye**

Christmas Break was only a week away and the season's joy flying about the air was getting under Snape's skin. Though he was still prickly with irritation over excitable children, he found he bore the burdensome joy with a lot less grudging reluctance. Jubilant celebrations were never going to be his thing, but at the very least he wasn't going to sneer at the promiscuous show of festivities in jealous contempt.

For once he had something to take joy in, and that was enough to untangle a thread from the cords of misanthropy bound about his heart. He would never be truly lightened of burden, but for this moment in his suffocating life, he had carved himself a piece of joy to call his own.

Perhaps this was the reason he had striven to reach out to the lost in his House; an attempt to bridge the divide before it had a chance to grow. In hindsight, perhaps a little too optimistic a thought, fuelled by the frivolity of the season.

"I need volunteers for the Christmas decoration, and thought perhaps some of you might wish to join us," Snape offered to the small cluster of what was left of the Death Eater gang. His eyes roamed the stony faces, meeting the glaring ones of Rosier and the timid ones of Avery.

In truth, no extra volunteers were needed. The Hufflepuffs volunteers had returned with gusto, perhaps spurred on by encouragement of the civic-minded Amelia Bones. Even without the volunteer force of Snape's converted Slytherins, they would have done fine.

Perhaps his attempt was doomed to failure for he only received contempt in return. "Hadn't realised your responsibilities began weighing on you so heavily that you must resort to begging for assistance," Rosier replied with so pleasantly polite a smile. He was already a prefect so his appearance at decorations was guaranteed, though the question was for how long. "Ask sweetly enough and I'm certain Avery might join you."

The squirrelly boy turned a nervous glance upon the lean cut figure of Snape. Avery was the only boy in his House year group that didn't tower over him. Perhaps that was why the boy, and the man, had always seemed intimidated by his far more remarkable peer.

Snape relented, realising his efforts was falling upon deaf ears. "Don't feel obliged," he muttered before sweeping back to his side of the common room. Both boys were destined for the darkness of their known futures, and there was little Snape could do about it.

He sunk into his plush seat, relenting to a little bout of brooding, but it seemed of late he was not to be let alone. Urquart pulled up one of the carved chairs from the tea tables to sit beside him, seeming content to join him in his sudden bout of moodiness.

"I don't suppose you need me to join the decorations," Urquart muttered so utterly devoid of enthusiasm. That boy always made his offer of assistance in the most begrudging of ways.

Snape glower deepened marginally. "We have the numbers necessary."

"So that request was for _their_ benefit?" The boy could not sound more contemptuous.

"You're more than welcome to join regardless," Snape muttered, feeling both annoyed by the rebuke and more than a little embarrassed by the result.

Urquart leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "By my own free will I would have to decline. I heard tell that Susan might be there if I go."

With that mere mention, Mulciber suddenly appeared, dragging over an armchair into the conversation. "What's this I hear about you needing help with decorations?" He asked, acting as if he hadn't been eavesdropping on his reluctant love rival.

Urquart smirked uncharitably. "O for effort, Mulciber, but you still failed spectacularly in listening for the main points. I said she was going to be there if _I_ was going to be there."

"What's she see in you anyway?" Mulciber snapped bitterly. "Barely a scrap of meat on you. You're as thin as a whip and act like a dandy."

"Perhaps it is because I don't act like a baboon and look like a pile of bricks that she finds me desirable," the sophisticated boy replied mercilessly.

With a slam of his fist, Mulciber cracked the arm from his seat. "You don't even like her!" he roared.

"Enough!" With one commanding sweep, Snape pushed the two chairs apart, mending the armrest in the same motion. "Squabble if you must but pick a corner away from mine!"

That large boy stood in a sudden furious motion. "You don't care one wit! You have your girl, you don't give a rat's arse about anyone else's struggles," he declared very loudly, not seeming to be aware of all the stares and sneers he was getting. "I have to stand here while pretty boy over there toys with the heart of every pretty young thing he sees!"

To which the pretty boy replied, "Yes, it's a pity there aren't more girls in the world with poor taste."

Enraged into momentary silence, Mulciber looked as if he were on the verge of reaching over and throttling his rival; then, just as suddenly, he turned and stomped away. Snape stowed his wand away, relieved he didn't have to intervene this time, but not overjoyed by the prospect of conflict to come. He did not need his two greatest allies within Slytherin tearing each other over some two-bit gossipy bint.

Snape turned his dark eyes upon the equally glowering Urquart. "I have to agree with Mulciber. You do not appear to find any interest in this Gryffindor girl. Is there any way I could convince you to end your little amusement with her?" _For the sake of my sanity._

"Why? His chances are not going to improve," the boy snipped uncharitably, but seemed content to reign himself in. "But you need not so concern yourself over me. I have no ill intentions for the girl and have been trying to dissuade Susan, politely. So far my efforts have fallen on deaf ears."

Snape sighed a long-suffering sigh. "At the very least you're not intentionally antagonising Mulciber."

"Not this way, no," Urquart relented willingly, before leaning back into his arched chair and sinking back into his brooding mood.

* * *

Great Hall decorations were going up on the same weekend the weekly doses of Wolfsbane were to be prepared. Ordinarily that would have been a wonderful excuse for him to duck out had Lily not volunteered to take on that task.

"Are you certain you do not want me to walk you through the process once more?" Snape asked, hopeful he would be awarded some reprieve from coating the Christmas tree with fake snow. There were honestly more than enough volunteers this time around and from the aggressive personalities among his student leader peers, more than enough chefs to spoil this broth.

"I'll be fine!" Lily insisted as she cleaned up her bench. She had been decorating baubles by inserting them with tiny perfectly preserved snowflakes. "You're needed here oh-most-dearly-competent Head Boy. Leave everything else to me."

With a sour scowl, Snape cast his eyes about this cacophony of bustle and festive joy. "I hope you don't think you're doing me a favour by sparing me from three hours in the laboratory."

"No. You're doing me a favour." She stretched upwards to plant a kiss upon his lips, sending him into a warm blush of crimson in full view of everyone in the hall. "I expect everything ship shape for when I return," she purred with a wink, before slipping away. Without waiting for the red to recede, Snape cast a glower about him, sending curious eyes darting for other corners.

"I look forward to my Christmas present," Lupin chirped happily to Lily's retreating back as he spun red tinsel around the length of the third of twelve Christmas trees on display. She turned back with a wink and a wave before slipping out the heavy doors.

 _Subtle._ Snape thought sardonically as he continued onwards to powder the next tree. One might wonder exactly how much of a secret that foul creature's curse was being kept. Certainly it seemed, from Lily's recount of her weekly highlights, that a good portion of Gryffindor had indeed known but kept mum about it. He supposed even they couldn't be so blind as to miss the patterns.

At the very least, Snape could unequivocally say that the majority of Slytherin don't even care enough to suspect, else their rich old-blood parents would have flooded the school with angry letters borne by their equally angry owls. Rightfully so too. Lycanthropy was a festering, virulent curse that had no place among children. That cursed boy was simply fortunate he was placed among those with a severe lack of self-preservation, rather than the cunning and shrewd. If the timing of his monthly escapades could invoke critical thinking from the likes of Gryffindors, he would not have lasted the week among the Slytherins.

As the last tree was dusted lightly by white, Snape flicked his wand to send the baubles flying from their crates to hang themselves on geometrically equal special points. If Snape was going to decorate, he was going to do it right. It didn't take long for his efforts to be rendered moot by the hap dash way the young Hufflepuff volunteers tossed their trinkets on. Bulton Proud showered them with unearned praise for their lackadaisical work, encouraging mediocrity. That was nothing short of everything Snape expected of Hufflepuff leadership. But even so, Proud was a useful prefect and valuable for his willingness to work if nothing else. His presence would be no doubt missed next term, after the Dark Lord came for his family in the holidays.

This was one of those moments Snape did not relish, knowing all too well of the tragedy that was to befall someone standing beside him, but unable to do a thing to stop it. Unable, and unwilling, for he could not risk changing the course of history so early and without tactical gain, just for the prospect of saving the life of one family. Bulton Proud's death would be on him for his inaction, and he must carry it for the rest of his life.

Greater good, indeed.

"We are well ahead of schedule," Amelia Bones reported from her station. Upon her table stood various enchanted ice sculptured renditions Saint Nicolas, an old-world wizard who gained notoriety through his seasonal flaunting of the Statute of Secrecy. One of the few magical elements that went down in muggle folklore with no negative repercussions except leaving broken hearts amongst growing children. However, whether that was actually a negative point was disputable.

Without a word, Snape nodded her an affirmation. He still only begrudgingly exchanged words with the future Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, still soured by the relentless hounding he endured in his previous life. Much of it deserved.

He had long since conceded the fact that of the crimes laid at his feet, there were more deaths he had a hand in than not. That Dumbledore had shielded him away from the reach of justice, he could only be grateful for, but he knew too keenly how heavy that weight lay upon both their shoulders.

After Bartemius Crouch's fall from grace, Amelia Bones had ascended to the position of Head of Magical Law Enforcement. To most with a sordid past it had seemed at the time to be a reprieve, for Crouch had been infamous for his relentlessness against all those he perceived to do wrong. That relief did not have time to last long, for very quickly Bones proved herself as equally relentless as her predecessor, and a lot more tenacious.

Though Snape was found innocent of the charge of being a Death Eater under Bartemius Crouch, over the years Bones had unearthed a litany of crimes that could be linked directly to him. Things Snape was no longer proud of. He had been a brash and hateful youth, and his mistakes stained his past. His remorse and use for the light was the only thing that spared him in Dumbledore's eyes. But not in the eyes of Amelia Bones.

Even as the years slipped away, he was called back to account for more unearthed atrocities. He had been a Death Eater in true for a mere two years of his life, yet that was enough to accrue a list of sins greater than the sum of his soul.

And ultimately, he had paid for it with a lifetime of regret and misery. Lily's death struck a blow so deep that it tore the dark veil from his eyes. And her love now gave him the courage to look back.

He had wrought so much wrong to so many. Families torn apart by his actions, directly and indirectly. He could remember still the feeling of life being taken upon the tip of his wand, tears and snips upon his soul for foul actions he wilfully committed.

Even as he stood now upon the right path, he found he could not face his once-persecutor without feeling heavy shame. Happiness now touched upon his life, yet it was filtered through the now cloying darkness of his past. The question kept surfacing, over and over again.

 _Do I deserve this?_

"It is no small feat you did, Snape."

The Slytherin turned to that familiar stern voice intruding upon his dark thoughts. "Pardon?" he asked cautiously, reassuring himself that Bones was not a Legilimens. He turned to meet those stern eyes, keeping his mind walls carefully in place.

There was no judgement braced upon her square jaws. "What I mean is, I admire what you have done." She turned away, and Snape followed her eyes to the small cluster of Slytherins shuffling behind a hoard of Hufflepuffs, scrambling to fix the tapestry the clumsy badgers had attempted to hang askew. "A great service to the school, perhaps, the world."

"What a great deal you make of the relief brought to a few lonely children," Snape muttered sardonically.

A frown touched Bones' heavy brows. "I would think you of all people should be able to tell how far the consequences of your actions would reach. Considering how close to the epicentre you had been just prior."

"Indeed," Snape stated in a flat tone, not willing to give away more than that. It had been so obvious to all that his path once lay adamantly in the depth of the shadowed darkness. A constant reminder of his past that he could never escape from, nor should he. In this world where his life remained untainted by the evils he had once perpetrated, he became the only one able to hold himself accountable to it all.

Not deterred by Snape's frosty response, Bones continued. "Not that I find wisdom in looking a gift horse in the mouth, but I have to wonder. What precipitated this change of heart? Am I to assume it was all to woo Head Girl Evans?"

"Assume what you like," Snape muttered, turning away to busy himself with vanishing the pine needles shaken loose by the burdens ladened upon the great festive trees.

After a beat of silence, Bones conceded. "Perhaps the reasoning is too private to publicly dispense, in which case I apologise for the prying nature of my questions."

Rather than leave things on that ponderous but amicable tone, Snape's scathing tongue undid any illusions. "Do not mistake my silence, Bones. I'm simply in shock that a Hufflepuff possessed an ounce of curiosity. Why for a second there I almost mistook you for a Ravenclaw."

Immediately those heavy brows drew together, but the words from her mouth were not of taken offence. "I will have you know, Snape, that curiosity is not a trait exclusive to Ravenclaws. Just like loyalty is not exclusive to us Hufflepuffs. You, however, are still attempting to prove the adage of Slytherins and unpleasantness."

Snape scowled, feeling for the first time in a long while like he was the child being told off. "You prod into what concerns you not, do not act so haughty when I snap at you. My concerns are my own, and I do not need your fair-minded hypocrisy commenting upon it."

Bones set her jaw. "Hypocrisy? There's nothing hypocritical about fairness and mercy."

But there was, more than this youthful version of the persecutor of his later years could possibly know. If she believed there was any forgiveness for those who chose badly in youth, then she did not show an inkling of such to him.

With half a breath Snape turned away. "I wish to speak no more of this." He hoped the stern Hufflepuff would defy his expectations and not pry any further.

Surprisingly, she complied. But it shouldn't be a surprise in the least, because this time they were not meeting under interrogation as they had in his past. She pressed no further, instead turning her eyes back to the Slytherin helpers.

Her stony face barely changed though her words rang a sentimental note. "Admittedly, you surprise me with your ardent dislike of me. I'm confounded as to how it had gone so badly when we last crossed paths." She paused a breath, but whether she expected Snape to cut in she gave no indication. She turned and swept away to the beckoning request of a young Hufflepuff assistant who was struggling to catch a reindeer decoration she had accidentally animated.

None of this had been the stoic Hufflepuff's fault. Snape knew this intellectually but could not quell his impulsive responses. She too was a different woman, younger, kinder, and untouched by the decades of soul-twisting work fighting the darkest of the darkness. Perhaps it had simply been the unremarkable reason that at this moment she was but a young woman with little to no responsibility or power. She could act upon her personal morals rather than bear the weight of the halls of justice. But Snape could not shake the grudges he held in his previous life, even for persecutions earned justly. It was his fault, not hers, and he fully acknowledged that.

But he was never a man who could let go.

He glowered darkly to himself, turning away so that none could see his turning mood. Warding away the curious glances he would likely receive from his reformed snakes. He was a poor symbol to measure against for all those who would choose their better selves.

* * *

With only four days to go, Christmas Break was breathing down their necks. Contrary to her usual last-minute routine, Lily already began her packing. Though she returned home every holiday, and with every one of those came a certain level of anticipation, this one struck a special chord with her.

Severus was returning with her this Christmas. She had not celebrated a Christmas together with him since their first year at Hogwarts.

There was going to be family, feasting, and gifts exchanged in the sleepy mornings in front of the warm fireplace next to snow-touched windowpanes. Sev was going to complain about being unable to contribute to this tradition of gift giving, and they were going to reassure him that the terrible scarf her father picked out for him didn't clash terribly with his face, figure and style; all while Lily boxed away her new muggle-made pen, never to be used again.

It was going to be a family Christmas with her wonderful Slytherin as part of the family and nothing could make her happier.

He too seemed to look forward to this little change up, though he tried desperately not to show it, instead heaving a small sigh, scowling softly and muttering sarcastic remarks whenever she brought up the impending return. But when he felt she wasn't looking, he would seem to settle, not quite a smile, but in a state of seemingly calm contentment.

He was happy, she knew he was.

With a chirpy little hum, Lily laid her haphazardly folded winter garbs in her Trunk. Most of her muggle clothes stayed in Cokeworth, just as all of her wizarding gear stayed in Hogwarts. But this year she thought about bringing back her new thickly lined winter cloak to wear about the countryside. She hoped Severus would give her a winter tour of that magical forest he had shown her.

She swaddled the cloak of eternal optimism about the bottom of her trunk, creating a soft bed to protect the Christmas presents she brought back. She had laid an unbreakable charm on them, certainly, but there was just some sort of spiritual security that came with knowing it was protected in the good old-fashioned muggle way as well.

Another snow globe sat nestled in her bed of crumpled jackets; this one the more classic style with realistic blizzard effects raging around a pretty little cottage with a wildly billowing chimney surrounded by a crop of animated windswept fern trees.

Collecting Snow Globes hadn't started as a serious hobby of her father's, just a casual amusement amassed from the years of leisurely travel in his youth. A few years abroad resulted in a cabinet full of these cheap little souvenirs, growing more over the years through contributions by relatives returning from their own holidays. Her father, being the good-natured man that he was, took this in stride and had since kept his collection quite earnestly. Their first trip down Diagon Alley had resulted in purchasing of a small extended knapsack full of magical snow globes, their perfectly little forever snowing landscapes tickling their muggle fancy.

As such it had been an obvious choice of present when Lily made her first trip down to Hogsmeade, all those years ago. Her eyes were wide with anticipation and glee when she first set them upon these magical versions of her father's favourite collectible. Little flurries of snowfall that needed no assistance to flurry, perfect little houses that smoked and flickered from merry little fires within, small carved animals enchanted to leap about their crystal shells as if they were alive. It was the perfect gift from the magical world, especially after the world conspired to take away his ability to gastronomically indulge as he liked.

At five Sickles each, these little globes had been quite expensive. Lily had always wondered about that, when the pretty little gems sold in Diagon Alley had been only five Knuts apiece. But now, with some insight into enchantment, she knew. Those snow globes bought in Diagon Alley had merely been charmed. Within a year their magic had ebbed away and their once colourful shells sat still and lifeless, as unmagical as the muggle trinkets they sat amongst. But the ones that came from Hogsmeade danced as brightly as the day she bought them. The permanence of true enchantment was worth more than twenty-nine times that of a mere charmed equivalent.

With a knowing smile she dropped her scratchy wool pyjamas over the snow globe before tucking her own animated crystal vial beside it. The little doe that Sev had made her had become her equivalent of an enchanted snow globe. Even for the brief period of Christmas she couldn't find it in herself to leave it behind. This one she swaddled most carefully of all.

She knew already he didn't really enchant it in true as already little aberrations began appearing in the little creature's form. Only very slight changes were occurring, as Severus was an immensely powerful spell caster. Even after nearly a year his spell had not even begun to fall apart. However, it did start to show a certain a sluggishness to its once elegant movement that told the amateur enchanter that this little trick wasn't designed to be a permanent thing. A sad realisation to come to. At the very least he would be by her side to refresh his charms should it ever wear down to the point that the little deer became lame. She wanted this little silver creature to run forever.

With a happy grin she finally made room for the final present, and thankfully it was an item that did not weather rough handling badly. A small satchel of pre-ground coffee beans she picked up from 'The Magic Neep', a quaint little grocer in the Hogsmeade main-strip, wrapped together with a small metal two-cup coffee maker she had purchased, oddly, from 'Ceridwen's Cauldrons'. She had noticed how much he relished the drink in the mornings with her father and thought he might appreciate a little portable wand-powered maker to call his own.

He would grumble and whine about the gift giving, as she would expect of him. He hated how it constantly reminded him he could not afford to gift anything in return. That was partly why she wanted him to take her about the British countryside. She had hoped he would understand that conceding to her request was gift enough for her.

This was to be their first Christmas together as family, and she wanted him to feel part of it.

And to forget those dark dreams that plagued his restless sleep.

A chill touched Lily's heart whenever she thought back on that night when she stumbled in on his nightmare. The low mournful moans he laid for her spent life. A life she knew was still very firmly seated within her. She could not fathom its source but did not doubt the depth these roots set. The great unknowable despair that haunted his dreams.

Perhaps under the bright lit sky, under the covers of trees and the sprawl of wildlands, Severus would find it in himself to confide to her its terrible source. She did not like the thought of this dark question sitting about the fringes as they prepared for a life together. This wasn't what she wanted their relationship to be.

As children they had held few secrets from each other, and as teens they had drifted apart. They could not return to how they were as children, and that was no longer something she wanted. They were adults, to be wed, as close as two people could possibly be. Though secrets will exist, because they were adults with egos and individuality, they could not have anything fester. And Sev's terrible nightmares were something that gnawed away at Lily harder by the day.

 _Let this not be what ruins Christmas._ She thought with furrowed brow as she packed the coffee tightly in between the two tightly wrapped crystal globes.

"Lily..." A soft voice called from the door, coaxing into attention without any intent to alarm.

Pushing away her darkened thoughts, Lily mustered a smile. "Mary. Come to pack as well?" The throngs of excitable Gryffindors hung in the warm pockets of Common Room, feeding off each other's Christmas cheer. Nobody returned to their rooms these evenings before they were well and ready to sleep.

A strange look flittered across her friend's face, almost of worry, confusion, and fear. "Lily…" The Head Girl felt her smile melt away as another chill touched her heart. "Professor McGonagall is in the common room. She says… she says she needs to speak with you urgently."

Lily felt her heart plummet. Whenever the head of House came to personally collect a student, it was always received as an omen of foreboding nature. And from the expression on her friend's face, it was foreboding indeed. "What did she say?" she breathed as her feet found their way to the door.

"She didn't say." Mary turned her back to lead the way down the stairwell. "But… she had that stony face. You know… the face where she isn't smiling at all on the inside." Their stern professor always seemed to have a strong poker face, and that she did for the uninitiated. But for the students fostered seven years under her stern guidance, they knew how to see beneath that shell.

Lily felt her pulse quicken along with her step. Mary matched hers without turning to look. They rushed down the stairs to be greeted by a hush in the common room. The silence was more out of place than anything could ever be within these welcoming walls.

Standing at the portrait, pulled as straight as a stand, was their Head of House, Professor McGonagall. Lily could see without even needing to approach that it was dark news that the Professor had brought. There was no humour twinkling in those concerned eyes, no anger edged along those light lines that lined her cheeks. She held herself tall and formal, calm to not alarm the students.

"Ms Evans, walk with me," she commanded with a gentle tone as the Head Girl approached.

Without a word, Lily slipped out the portrait hole, leaving behind that suffocating silence building behind her. She fell in step with the stride of her tall teacher, taking a pace she knew the tall McGonagall had set for her student's comfort.

Lily could not settle her heart. As they descended the Grand staircase in silence she fought the urge to run. Fear as she never knew it clawed at her heart as every terrible scenario whirled about her clouded mind. She opened her mouth to ask what this was about but found her tongue wrung dry and her voice become inexplicably absent.

After what felt like the longest time, they had finally stopped. And it took a long moment more for Lily to realise they had arrived at McGonagall's first floor office.

The door opened without a touch and the stern Professor stood aside, her hand held in a gesture that beckoned her student to enter first. Lily was being made a guest in the Professor's office, not a student, and this was ringing every alarm bell in her mind.

"Please seat yourself, Ms Evans. I do believe I need you to brace yourself for the conversation we're about to have." The Professor urged her hesitant student as the grand old lady swept in around the desk. But instead of sitting herself at her low-backed chestnut seat, she moved to conjure a set of armchairs by the fire.

Lily made her way to the second armchair and found her knees give way to drop her roughly upon the upholstered seat. If her rough treatment of the furniture irked the stern professor in the slightest she gave no indication. Instead McGonagall reached over and placed her hands gently upon Lily's as her wooden mask melted away.

And sombre compassion sat in its place.

"I'm sorry to tell you this, Lily. But your father… he's passed away."

Silence laid its heavy folds upon the room. Lily's racing heart slowed until she could feel every beat thud heavily against her ribs. She felt her breath catch, cold and hot all at once. No words came to her, for nothing could pierce that heavy veil that dropped about them.

Then the tears came.

* * *

That awful brew was finally drawing to its conclusion this dreadful month. With the full moon only five nights away, the Marauders would be running their nightly collections again. Thankfully Snape had Lily to buffer these evenings, ensuring he had to interact with those miscreants as little as possible. However, she had not come tonight. And after she had sent him a Patronus message that morning telling him that she would.

His concern for her was natural, but he could already see her in his mind's eye, sheepishly shrugging it off as an afternoon nap gone long, giggling away his scowling worry. He'd settle when he's got word of her confirmed safety, but until then it was his right to pace and bristle with agitation.

That was the only reason he would lower himself to speaking to the werewolf when he appeared from beneath that cloak to collect the brew. The creature appeared almost relieved at the sight of Snape at the cauldron, as if he expected yet again for the Slytherin to forsake his word and abandon this endeavour. But any irritation that came about this observation was overshadowed by more important concerns.

"Where is Lily?" Snape demanded the moment that mangy wolf showed his gormless snout.

"I don't know," came the inflammatory reply.

Snape's eyes widened, then narrowed, "What do you mean?" he hissed dangerously.

The sandy-haired boy blinked blankly, hesitating a moment before answering with a repulsively understanding tone, "I suppose you must not have heard then… gossip must still not reach Slytherin very quickly…"

"Spit. It. Out." Snape growled dangerously.

A look of discomfort flitted across Lupin's face. "Professor McGonagall came to collect her earlier this afternoon… she hadn't returned since."

Snape felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "Don't give me that and expect me to believe you did not run to your damnable map straight after to spy on her!"

A grimace coloured Lupin's face, peeling back his dis-genuine mask of attentive politeness. "She sat with McGonagall for… a long time." He spoke softly with a strange tone to match his equally, and suddenly, downcast demeanour. "She was there for about… half an hour and she left. She came up to the seventh floor and disappeared… we're certain she entered the Come-and-Go room. She hasn't come out since."

"You expect me to believe that none of you nosey Gryffindors thought to go after her? The curiosity alone would have sent you sniffing," Snape snapped uncharitably.

"I… know what that means," Lupin admitted quietly. "McGonagall brought me before her fireplace once before. For my mother... when she passed away."

Snape's blood ran cold. Memories of sitting with Slytherin children by his own fireplace, clumsily easing them into news of family tragedy.

"Lily's father?"

"I think so…" the Gryffindor boy whispered.

Without another word Snape thrust the potion into the boy's hands and strode to the door. He did not bother to lock his lab as he left, his wards would have to hold. He did not have the patience to herd the damnable boy out of his territory and secure it through his seething mind.

He knew the man had met his end before his daughter, for why else would her only son have ended up under the tender mercies of Petunia? He had known this, but never bothered to find out how, and when? To think he ever claimed that he cared, he could not even think past his own need of her to know even the barest of the strife within her short life.

For all the good he could do the world, he could not help her world.

"Wait!" came that irritating voice behind him, followed by the sound of a door slamming quite hard and jogging footsteps. "You're not going to try to get in are you?"

Snape scowled and did not answer. If it were possible to quicken his step without breaking into a jog he would have.

"I just need to tell you, it won't work. If you ask for privacy the room won't open for anyone else until you're ready. And… I think Lily would have wanted privacy…"

"She needs me!" Snape hissed, surprising even himself with his outburst. "If the room gives her what she needs then it will not turn me away." She was not the sort to suffer in solitude. She was a soul as different to him as night was to day.

With a sudden hurried step Lupin appeared behind him and placed an infuriating hand upon Snape's shoulder. There were not enough words in the Oxford Dictionary to describe how unwelcome that werewolf's touch was, but before Snape could make his best attempt, Lupin placed a finger to his lips and tilted his head to the staircase.

Their voices had attracted Mr Molly, Filch's longhaired Maine Coon pest; its bright golden eyes glaring at the transgressing students as its tail whipped back and forth. This cat was never the tattletale as Mrs Norris had been or would prove to be, but it at least was a good indicator that the curmudgeon caretaker was not far.

Before Snape could take another step towards the cat guarded stairs, Lupin threw the invisibility cloak about them both. With a jerk of revulsion, Snape made to pull away from the shared proximity but in a show of rare assertiveness, the werewolf held on tightly. "We're too tall to share this without some effort. Stick close and crouch."

Snape made to snap at the creature at the vile suggestion but the thought of Lily stayed his pride. She needed him by her side, and he would not risk capture upon his own wilfulness. And though he could not bend his pride to ask, this obnoxious boy… this Marauder, had offered without a word.

He would have thanked him had his pride allowed.

* * *

Great monolithic pillars of old books and knickknacks stretched upwards into the darkness of the cavernous room. Great stretches of worn and broken furniture decayed in scrambled piles, left untended for decades, perhaps centuries. Small spots of light shimmered between the great moulds of shadows, casting strange shadows of their own. Contraband could be seen jutting from once-secure hiding spots, revealed by the weathering brought on by the passage of time. He could pick out the form of a fanged Frisbee, hovering menacingly over a distant mound, marking out an area Snape hoped to avoid.

Snape walked with a soft silent step as he stretched his lit wand before him, the great gilded doors fading into the darkness behind him. The entrance had materialised at his approach, without any effort of his own. Without waiting another moment, Snape took for the door. Lupin had offered to come with him, an offer Snape had sharply rebuked before slamming the door upon the boy's face. If the creature had an ounce of forethought he would return to his dormitory under the cover of his cloak and not have himself serving detention alongside the stress of the impending full moon.

Snape stalked into the depth of the shadows and trusted the ring that bound his heart to show him the way. He felt Lily in the darkness of this great chamber, his heart pulled him in the direction of where she hid in this shadowy labyrinth. Picking carefully between perilously stacked towers of trinkets and oddities, brushing up against flakes of decay from ancient leather-bound books, Snape pushed carefully into the darkness. Hidden in the depth of this labyrinth of lost and broken things, Lily was alone and in pain.

He heard her before he saw her, the gentle sound of sobbing twisting his heart.

With his hand bracing upon the roughened surface of an old blistered and peeling wardrobe, Snape skirted silently around it and approached the figure huddled beneath its shadow. Her face was hidden in the nook of her arms, resting upon her knees. How long she had sat huddled like that was a question Snape did not wish to be answered.

He hesitated to approach, uncertain as how to alert her of his presence without startling her, unsure suddenly as to whether his witness to this very private pain was even welcome. For all the confidence he had as he rushed up the Grand Staircase, it all bled away in the face of such raw pain.

But as that moment of cowardice passed, Snape gathered his unfaltering courage. He stepped silently to her side and dropped a comforting hand upon her shoulder, causing her to start and hiccup loudly in shock. Her green eyes were wide and reddened by her aggravating tears, irritating the skin beneath her eyes into red puffiness. Her lips were pale and chaffed, noticeable even in the half-light of this dark and shadowy pocket. Her robes crumpled at their creases, telling tale of how long she sat in her slumped sobbing form.

"It's just me," Snape whispered softly, turning his hand to grip her firmly and stop her from pulling away.

Surprise faded from Lily's tear-stung eyes, her lips quivered as she forced a smile from those pale lips. "…Hey Sev."

Snape slid himself to the floor beside her, his hand upon her shoulder snaked around to her other side, pulling her close. He said not a word as she laid her head upon his chest and turn inwards to the roughened fabric. They sat together for a long moment, no words upon the musty air, their breaths the only sound within that silent hall.

Then the weeping started anew. Softly at first, a gentle shake of Lily's lithe frame, but soon her heart clenching sobs reached Snape's ears. He wrapped his other arm about her, holding her tightly as she wept.

Memories of weeping alone touched Snape's mind, he would have never wished for another to stumble upon his shameful displays. Though he knew intrinsically that Lily was a different creature, he could not help the instinct to look away from her raw emotions. His dark eyes wandered his surroundings, catching upon anything but the weeping girl in his arms, keeping his attention on the oddities about him.

"…the potion?" Lily's soft quivering voice pierced the silence.

"Hmm?" Snape prompted, still unwilling to look away from a worn and chipped bust of a hideous old wizard.

The shivering girl shifted in his arms. "Did- did finish the Potion?" She shifted, wiping her tears away, but whether it was upon her sleeves or Snape's robes he was uncertain.

"Lupin got his blasted potion," he answered with a grumble, eliciting a surprising giggle from Lily.

"I… was supposed to be there wasn't I?" she muttered voice tired but touched with chagrin.

"I hardly think I would hold it against you given the circumstances," Snape muttered, tightening his arms about her a fraction. He just remembered he hadn't scrubbed down his equipment before he left, and if Lupin didn't at least think of soaking his cauldron before leaving in pursuit then the dratted boy was getting rust flakes in his horrid dose tomorrow.

"So you heard then?" Lily sniffed as she raised her puffy eyes.

He could not meet them without feeling his failure press upon him. "I'm sorry." _For not being able to stop this. For being so useless..._

"Don't be. His heart stopped. It's obviously not your fault," Lily answered thickly, her eyes shimmering brightly even in this dim light. "Apparently heart distress… it's common with his condition. He was found by the neighbour when she noticed the paper at the front door was untouched. Apparently dad was sitting snug in front of the telly as if asleep. He probably nodded off watching his favourite shows..." She gave a watery hiccup, prompting Snape to bring his fingers down her silky hair. A gesture that brought great comfort to him, he thought might bring to her a similar measure of catharsis.

"When is the funeral?" he asked, his voice a quiet husk.

A tired sigh preceded the answer. "Thursday. Petunia took it upon herself to arrange it without even bothering to contact me. Good thing I started my Christmas packing early I suppose."

Snape felt a pulse for Petunia. That vile woman would have allowed her own sister to miss her father's funeral over her petty jealousy. But this should not be a surprise coming from the woman who would go on to neglect her very same sister's son. Another duty Snape had failed in his self-pitying stupidity.

It seemed as if he could never pull himself together enough to do right by her…

"I'll get everything sorted. We'll leave by tomorrow afternoon."

Lily glanced up, a smile touching her pale chapped lips. "Skiving class to come with me then?"

Snape's black eyes met hers, wide with incredulity that she would even consider the two matters similar in proportion. "To damned be my school attendance. I will not leave you to mourn your father alone. He was to be my father as well."

Her smile dipped as her eyes widened, his words catching her off-guard. Then to his abject horror the tears welled up within her eyes once more, wracking her in bodily sobs. "He was, wasn't he...? Your father in law…"

He tightened his arms about her, pulling her into his chest. "He was more of a father to me than my own father had been."

"I know…" Lily muttered in a watery voice. "I think he was really looking forward to having you as a son-in-law… He was… He really… warmed up to you…" She shuddered silently, the sounds muffled by the fabric of his robes, but the thin material did nothing for the tickle of her sobbing breath. "We were going to be family…"

Snape closed his eyes as Lily sobbed into his chest, feeling the weight of his failure press down upon them.

* * *

A/N: To those that guessed it would be Lily's father, you were correct. Umm, congratulations?

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 8th September 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 42: Beginnings from Endings**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	42. Beginnings from Endings

**Chapter 42: Beginnings from Endings**

The funeral had been held at the local church that Lily's father had attended every Sunday. A small service, attended by colleagues and friends, and what little family he had left. Through the service, and burial and eventually the wake, Lily stood side by side with Petunia, perhaps the only time they had been in each other's presence without conflict or drama.

To think, all it took was their father's passing…

Petunia too looked somehow smaller without her husband at her side. Vernon Dursley apparently had a lot on his plate at work before the upcoming Christmas Holidays and could not take the day to come to the funeral. Even as Petunia gave that excuse, time and time again, it sounded hollow upon Snape's ears. It seemed even she doubted the earnestness of her husband's excuse not to be by her side during this difficult time.

It wasn't as if Snape felt much better for being at Lily's disposal. He barely contributed anything at all. Lily flitted around, thanking her father's colleagues for being there, greeting the mourners and sending them off. Snape hadn't said more than two sentences during the entire affair, and one of which was to restate how sorry he was for the family's loss.

He kept by Lily's side, silent but present, until the last mourner departed and the house fell silent. More silent than Snape had ever remembered it being. It was just him, Lily and Petunia left in that lounge room, the silence making the usually quite decent space feel uncomfortably small. Neither sister spoke to one another, their eyes reddened by the stinging tears they were both too exhausted to shed.

The silence was finally broached as a tired sigh snuck through Lily's lips. Dark circles were beginning to take hold beneath her eyes. She hadn't slept well. Snape hadn't checked up on her during the night as he fought his own battles against sleeplessness in the guestroom of the silent Evans household, shrouded by silencing wards. In hindsight, perhaps he should have. Lily had once attempted to keep him company through the night during a difficult time, perhaps she had expected the same of him.

That little relief from the stifling silence was all Petunia needed as an invitation it seemed. "I suppose we'll have to discuss daddy's will, won't we?" Petunia leapt straight into this topic without any easing or preamble. "His solicitor already contacted me, I assume he had yet been unable to get a hold of you."

Lily groaned. "We have to do this now?" Her pale hands clenched upon the stained linen of her handkerchief.

"I should think this is a matter of most paramount importance, Lily. Our father is dead, his estate is to be divided as per his wishes, and I think you and I need to discuss and agree upon what is on offer." Petunia ploughed on relentlessly, and quite sensibly in Snape's opinion. "It seemed he thought we would fight over our inheritance because very clear instructions had been given in this regard."

"Then everything is sorted." Lily muttered, wiping at the tears that threatened her vision. "I don't want to think about that right now." Though personally Snape would have welcomed the distraction from mournful thoughts.

To Petunia's credit she did not relent, nor lose her temper. "You need to know this Lily. Dad divided his estate so that I would get his savings and assets, but you would get the house and all its possessions."

"That makes sense. You always hated Cokeworth," Lily muttered. "The house would have been wasted on you."

"That we can agree upon." Petunia pursed her lips and gave a long derisive sniff.

"But… wait." Lily turned her green eyes earnestly to her sister. "Isn't the house worth more than dad's savings and stuff?"

"Yes, Lily." Petunia's lip's smoothed to a thin line. "You got the bigger half. Daddy always loved you more."

"Or he thought she needed the help more," Snape muttered, his voice a little hoarse from his insistent silence.

That harpy woman turned her reproachful glare upon Snape as if he were something scraped from the bottom of her shoe. "Our optimist of a father? Surely he hadn't thought he'd die so soon as to worry over his talented daughter's financial welfare? Otherwise why would he have left her a house with a mortgage she had no way of repaying?"

Lily grimaced. "The mortgage from mum's funeral?"

"And legal costs. I told daddy not to pursue the driver through the civil courts. I told him it would get expensive." Petunia sniffed again. "He never listens to me, does he? We're all paying for it now."

"What happened?" Snape asked, his brows stitched together in concern. He had never asked how Lily's mother died and the realisation sicked him. _What a specimen of a fiancé I am…_

With a tired wipe of her eyes, Lily answered. "When she was driving downtown, she got into an accident. It was a young man, in the suburbs just a little ways over. He hadn't checked both ways when he turned from a side street, right into the path of mum's car." Another tear wiped by that crumpled handkerchief. Even Petunia turned away. "It was his fault, but the criminal court… did not pronounce his guilt under incomplete evidence. So dad pursued him in civil court."

"And racked up a debt upon this house," Petunia muttered, in a tone more defeated than angry.

"He wanted a little justice," Lily muttered with a wet sniff.

But there was no mercy from her sister. "What good did it do him in the end? That little win was barely enough to cover legal costs. Sure that scum was taught an expensive lesson, but we wound up sharing that lecture."

"How much is left on that mortgage?" Lily conceded without any more fight.

"Too much… too much, Lily."

Snape felt his heart grow cold. In his mind's eye he saw a Lily from another life, sitting through this ordeal under different circumstances. For she had Potter in that lifetime; matters of wealth and debt would not have even touched upon her concern. What small middling muggle debt could hold a candle to the mountains of gold within the Potter vaults?

 _Useless…_

 _I'm useless!_

"I need to go." Snape stood, his face a blank mask. "I have to finish today's brew. I have to start it now if it has any chance of getting there by tomorrow morning." He had brought down his cauldron to keep his blasted promise. A mere distraction from a day like today, one that he was grateful for.

Lily's pale lips lifted weakly. "I'll leave that in your capable hands, Sev."

He left the sisters alone in that room, feeling every bit the failure as Petunia had accused him of. And twice the coward as he had ever denied.

* * *

Stuffing the small stoppered vial into a brown paper bag, Snape summoned the great grey owl from the branches above to ferry the bottle to the castle hidden in the Scottish highlands. Tomorrow a different bird would sit in the branches waiting, for no bird could fly a package that distance on consecutive nights.

Snape sighed as he stowed away his sealed cauldron upon a shelf in the shed once used for carrying muggle tools. His own tools lay washed and dried upon a separate rack; any rust and caked foulness, left from the neglect of two nights ago, now scrubbed clean.

There was no real washbasin in this shed; instead Snape had conjured one, with a trickling water source above it to simulate running water. He ran his hands through that freezing water, scrubbing carefully from beneath his cropped nails. An exercise in avoidance perhaps, for he had already scrubbed clean his hands of all residue before he packaged the potion for delivery.

The few hours of distraction this exercise had bought him he was grateful for, but he had to return to Lily's side and share in her mourning, else what kind of man was he?

But her sadness… he feared it so. He vowed to protect her, but what could he do against insidiousness from within? He knew all too well of how crippling it felt to lose someone you loved. What could he possibly do to protect her from something that had repeatedly defeated him?

Vanishing the water from his conjured basin, Snape pulled his cloak over his muggle suit, still unchanged from the funeral. He had worn the same suit bought to attend Petunia's wedding to the man's funeral. Almost poetic if it weren't for the fact he hadn't a choice in the matter.

Stepping out the warded door of the backyard shed, a wave of frozen wind threatened to strip him of his warming enchantment. The shed had been adjusted to a temperate climate befitting its use as a temporary potion-lab but outside of those bounds winter was wreaking havoc.

At the very least muggle houses were sturdy, Snape thought to himself as he stepped through the back door and began knocking the snow off himself, but he paused midway through the motion. From within the house he heard the most peculiar sound.

Laughter.

Snape stood frozen at the door for a long moment, his sharp mind attempting and failing to dissect what was happening. Why was there laughter? Was he mishearing the sound of crying?

The feeling of melted snow biting into his shoulders was what spurred him back to life. With a wave of his wand, Snape dispelled the mess he made and dried his clothes from the encroaching melt. With a cautiously silenced step, Snape headed to the living room, a frown etched upon his forehead.

Both sisters were giggling in a baffling display of merriment. "…and when daddy thought he won the raffle he clean knocked over a lamp in his exuberance. Little did he know he was holding the ticket upside down!" Petunia's hyena baying punctuated the story, sending both sisters into another round of jubilant laughter, rendering the watching boy into stricken confusion.

Why are they happy? Were they not in mourning?

"Dad could be such a silly sausage," Lily breathed through peals of laughter.

"Sometimes it was hard to believe he's a doctor," Petunia agreed. "If only his patients could see him trying to work anything electronic. Took him half an hour to figure out the TV wasn't turning on because he hadn't plugged it in!"

Another round of exuberant laughter. Snape stood unnoticed at the back of the lounge, unwilling to disturb them. This was not mourning as he knew it, and he could not see himself joining in, choosing to gracefully retreat rather than be threatened to contribute to a mood he could not intellectually fathom.

Snape found himself in the kitchen, reasoning that he could at the very least make himself useful. Cooking was not too different from potioneering, in both technique and how it served to keep him distracted. Snape hung his cloak and jacket upon a conjured cloak stand and rolled up his sleeves. He could feel the bite of the cold through his blanket of enchantments but knew from experience that it would quickly be dispelled by the heat from the kitchen.

Pulling open the heavy refrigerator, a muggle invention to make up for the lack of ability to put fresh food into stasis, Snape browsed the options available to him. There was a small turkey sat in the centre slot, a sad testament to the approaching holiday. The man had passed so unexpectedly, and so close to that day of celebration that the menu had already been purchased and kept.

Snape wondered if he should prepare that turkey tonight. He hadn't been able to foresee the possibility of a celebratory Christmas feast, but with the confusing exuberance shown in the houseroom he could no longer be so sure.

Instead, Snape pulled out several drumsticks, deciding a simple dinner would suffice. It wasn't a day to be fancy, it was a day to simply live through. If their despair was in any way similar to his own, then they would likely appreciate some normalcy.

Summoning dishes from the cupboards and setting vegetables on the side to chop and dice autonomously, depositing them in a thinly oiled baking pan, layered, seasoned and buttered with cream and a magical grating of cheese.

For the chicken Snape preferred a knife. He had spells to debone the meat, but he had always preferred to trust his hands with that. His years of practice in the potion laboratory meant he could work wonders with a blade to which even his exemplary control over his spell power could not measure.

With a sharpening spell to work the edge into a fine gleam, Snape worked the blade through the meat, cutting it cleanly away from the main bone and working it around the thin fibular. He created a marinade composed of garlic, ginger and herbs in a blend of honey and a dash of white wine vinegar from bottles that looked as if they hadn't been touched in years. Snape set that aside to allow it to seep.

It honestly wouldn't do to re-join the sisters in the living room as they grieved in their odd way. Instead he stood by the oven, glancing periodically between his pocket watch and the oven timer until he had determined it was time to put the chicken to the pan.

As he set the butter to the pan, a tittering of giggles yanked Snape from his blissful routine. He glared to the doorway at the two girls, doubled over in a fit of unfathomable laughter.

"S-sorry Sev. Not laughing at you…" Lily gasped through her peals of giggles. She so obviously was. Both girls were red in the face and found themselves seemingly unable to communicate through their raucous behaviour.

Snape glared in confusion as he laid the chicken skin down into the spitting oil, knives and chopping boards already washing themselves off thoroughly in the sink.

"Which one of you is to be the wife?" Petunia asked between gasps.

"I can cook too," Lily whined as her giggles faded, her smile however remained as brilliant as it was confusing.

Snape bowed over his sizzling pan as if in dire concentration so that they wouldn't see his self-conscious scowl. He had spent a thirty-eight year life entirely a bachelor, of course he'd have to know how to cook. Not that he'd expect either of them to know. If he looked at it objectively it did seem strange a seventeen year old teenaged wizard should know his way around the kitchen like he did.

"Sorry, Sev. Really wasn't... didn't mean to laugh at you," Lily beseeched from behind him. "I'm just giddy…"

But Petunia was not so merciful. "Maybe you should get him an apron. One with frills and pink to highlight the gloom of his eyes." Both girls fell into another round of fitful giggles.

Snape glared down to the oil spots forming upon his white shirt, in his distraction he had foolishly stood too close to a spluttering pan. "I don't need an apron," he muttered sourly as he brushed the oil spots away with the tip of his wand, quite certain the mental image of him in that god awful unflattering domestic gear was rattling about their imaginations. Even he couldn't suppress the thought that came to mind as much as he could the shudder that came after.

His mood must have sapped the mirth from the room as the tittering of both sisters petered away. Only the sound of sizzling chicken remained, and there Snape stood, prodding it uselessly as there was honestly nothing he could contribute to that the cooking time beyond waiting for the skin to crisp on high heat. He couldn't take the awkwardness that followed his curmudgeon rebuke to that encroachment upon his pride. They had just lost their father, yet he couldn't even begrudge them a cheap laugh or two at his own expense.

"Well, Lily. You best do your bit in the kitchen." Petunia spoke up in a voice that was surprisingly devoid of her nose-wrinkling superiority. "If you are to be a wife you can't leave your man to do the kitchen work." Old fashioned thinking to be sure.

"And leave you alone to fetch the linens? What kind of host would I be?" Lily quipped to her sister with a grin, taking a jab at the woman's long-held absence from the household, or perhaps her new title as home owner, as temporary as that may be. Snape felt his heart constrict again, a flush of guilt he was glad to able to sort out with his back turned to company.

Petunia's petulant voice rang out once more. "I am perfectly capable of navigating this household. I do not need you to hold my hand as I arrange my own living situation. My old room will suffice."

"Oh wait, no. Sev's using it right now."

Snape's dear desire to see the look of horror upon Petunia's face warred with his own similar horror over the idea of her staying the night. "I think not! You will just have to make different arrangements. I am absolutely not having _him_ in _my_ room!"

"Hear that, Sev? You're bunking with me tonight."

"Have a little decency, Lily!" Yet again his look of horror prevented him from turning to see Petunia's no doubt matching expression.

"A third room has opened up," Snape suggested as he continued to bend over those happily sizzling chicken. He had intended it to be a useful comment, but from the silence that answered him it dawned on him how insensitive that idea would be. To move straight into their father's room when his body wasn't even cold in the earth yet. "Or… the couch. I can sleep on the couch," Snape muttered, dropping his spatula handle into the pan with a loud sharp clank. With a scowl he banished the utensil to the sink where it was whipped up into a frenzy of soapy scrubbing.

With an awkward clearing of her throat, Petunia excused herself. Her lack of comment on his culinary mishap was perhaps the only time she had ever shown him an inkling of mercy; perhaps it was insignificant in light of all that had happened today. Snape knew all too well the biting despair that came with reminders of loss. How could his empathy be so flat as to immediately forget it all the moment the problem became someone else's? Despair was more familiar to him than any other emotion could ever be.

"So, you gonna put me to work?" Lily asked lightly, a little too close to Snape's elbow. He turned slowly to face her and her small, wonky, and confusing smile. How could she smile so close to her time of loss? How could she laugh so soon after the burial?

"Onions," he muttered into his chest. "Just one. Small."

"What's it for?" Lily asked as she did as she was bid. Making small talk to dispel the atmosphere, as if she was actually interested.

"Gravy. I'll make it with the oil drippings from the chicken." Snape withdrew from the countertop so Lily had the space to set up and chop. Without ever seeing her wand, an onion selected itself from the pantry and met the knife upon the newly washed chopping board. Had she lived, he could only imagine how powerful a witch she would have become.

"Who would have thought you'd be such a fancy cook," Lily commented with a tilted grin, as if she found that fact more amusing than she should.

Snape did not feel the sting from her teasing as distinctly as he had when others were about. "Were Petunia's sensibilities upset by the idea of ingesting food prepared by me?"

The Gryffindor girl shrugged with a wink. "I think it was more the idea of a man in the kitchen in general. Oh the shame of it all." Her words followed by another giggle, as if enticed into amusement too easily by her own words.

Silence fell again between them, as Snape deemed it time to flip the chicken and set its burner to low. Beside that pan, a saucepan placed itself, and without a moment's hesitation Snape set about siphoning the oil from the frying chicken into the saucepan and setting the onions to brown.

Lily watched him with an air of amusement, as if actually enjoying the banality of this activity. As if she had already found it in herself to move on from a loss she only just laid to rest. It did not make an ounce of sense to Snape. "I don't understand…"

Her mirth melted away as easily as it came. "What's wrong?"

 _Why were you laughing when you should be grieving?_ "Are you… no longer sad?"

He glanced to those green eyes, watching them widen marginally then softening. "Of course I'm still sad, Sev." Her voice came out in almost a whisper. "I just buried my father this morning. It takes more than one day for things to… feel better."

 _Do things get to feel better…?_

A gentle hand braced upon his shoulder. Lily brushed up against him to lay her head upon his chest. He could feel her breathe against his form, the gentle motions of life that could not still even in moments of rest. "I don't… expect you to understand Sev. You haven't mourned loss before."

 _I had mourned loss for half of my life._

She buried her face into his chest, he felt her hot tears seep through his thin muggle shirt. "It feels like… nothing could ever be right again…"

 _It does…_

"Your emotions wind up so tight that it feels like… like you might explode."

 _I know…_

"But then… you remember. You remember all the good times you've had. You remember that… they existed in your life. And how happy they made you. Then even the smallest thing, the most insignificant memory, makes you smile. Brings you peace…"

Snape's black eyes stared distantly and unseeing, unable to fathom her words. After her death, there was no smiles, though there had been few to begin with. His happiest moments turned to needles upon his heart. Peace was not for those who languished with remorse.

"I don't expect you to understand any of it, Sev," Lily murmured, wrapping her arms tight around the stricken boy's torso. "Loss is complicated. All I know is… if I don't laugh, I'll cry. And I don't want my father's memory to be all tears."

He brought his arms around her, holding her tight. He understood the pain, he understood it so well. If her laughter brought her relief from that pain, then… "Then laugh," he muttered, his hot breath tasselling her fiery hair. "Be happy. Let the pain fade."

"It will. With time," she agreed, a sentiment Snape could not get behind. For his pain never ceased. Even now when she stood alive, in his arms, he carried his loss like a scar upon his soul. His guilt would never relinquish him to peace.

He felt her fingers tighten upon the fabric on his back. Her hair shifted beneath his chin as her bright green eyes sought out his own. "I know you're thinking about… your nightmare."

 _She believes it just to be a nightmare…_

Her grip upon his shirt loosened as she worked her hands up his back."If I die before you…" she murmured, her voice striking ice into his heart.

"You won't!" he snapped. This was not a topic he wished to discuss with her, this was not a possibility he wanted spoken of.

Her fingers trailed through his hair, a touch that brought him a measure of peace. A touch that reminded him that she was there, she was alive. "If I die before you, I want you to promise me something," she tried again, giving his hair a sharp tug when he opened his mouth to rebuke. "I want you to promise me you'll cry for your loss, then smile for the good times we had. Eventually…" her hand slid down his chest to rest over his heart, "I want you to be happy."

"Impossible," Snape growled harshly, causing Lily to shrink back in surprise. "I would never live another happy day should you cease from my life." He knew it so well, he knew it so clearly.

A smile touched her lips, a smile that looked so bitter, even to his eyes. "Why is it that I can actually see you mourning forever?" she muttered thickly, blinking quickly to quell her watery eyes. "But I'll tell you now, Sev. I'll tell you in case you'll ever need to know, and hope that you never do." She ran her fingers up his neck and into the thickness of his hair. "If I die, I would want your memories of me to bring you joy. I do not want to become a memory that brings you only sorrow."

Snape scowled and made to turn away, but Lily placed her other hand upon his cheek, bracing her thumb beneath his chin to hold him firmly in place. "Just like if you die, Sev." She trailed her fingers into his hairline, brushing the strands from his face. "If you die before me, I would be… saddened." His heart thudded loudly as she rested her cheek upon it. "You are my… companion. My oldest friend, Sev. I would be devastated. I'd cry for weeks." She sniffed and gave a watery giggle as if she found amusement from that depressing remark. "But I'd still find joy in the times we shared together. Laugh at all the silly things you've done. Remember how much I love you." He tightened his arms, pulling her as close to himself as physically possible.

To think, a seventeen-year-old girl could know more than him, a man twice her age, about love, loss and mourning. It spoke so much about her heart that she would rather celebrate happiness, rather than wallow in tragedy. This was the woman that once found happiness with another, a choice she had made that twisted him in such bitter jealousy.

Would he have rather wished her misery? To hope that she found naught but grief that she chose someone else? He could believe it of himself, the vile thoughts of his twisted younger self. He did not deserve her in his foolish youth. Perhaps he still didn't, but at the very least he was willing to try. Willing to change. That was all he could offer, because he was not willing to crush his own heart and do right by her. Selfish enough to still believe he deserved some semblance of happiness, even to the detriment of those he loved.

"You're burning the onions!" Petunia's shrill voice sounded from the entranceway. "I leave you two alone for five minutes and you're burning down the kitchen?"

Snape's wand was in his hand in a split second, sending the pan, burnt onions and all, straight into the sink. He felt his lips curl, his mood shifting from melancholy to annoyance in a heartbeat. Of those two emotions, the latter was his preferred. He was almost thankful to Petunia for fishing him from his miring thoughts and setting him into the mood of a good throttling. Lily, however, simply laughed as she untangled herself from his arms. The sudden chill of their separation stoked a bitter longing in his heart. Melancholy was stirring up his foolishness.

"This is why men should not set foot in the kitchen. Too easily distracted!" Petunia continued, so very haughtily. "The chicken is still suitable for consumption I assume?"

"It's fine." Snape grumbled as he slid the chicken pieces away from the hot side of the pan, browner than he would have liked but thankfully not burnt. Lily peered anxiously over his shoulder, no doubt remembering the disaster she had wrought to his laboratory through absentminded distraction. "I just need to restart the gravy. It isn't a huge loss." He reassured her before she could feel at fault.

"I think not." Petunia declared, shoving Snape from the stoves with a territorial vigour. "You have done quite enough, I'll not have another mishap. Lily and I will finish the gravy. You, sit outside and stay out of trouble."

Snape made to argue but the vexing woman had already fastened the apron about herself and set to work dismantling a new onion. Lily shot him an apologetic smile before flocking to her sister's side, handing her items requested as quickly as she was able to summon them.

Finding himself suddenly usurped, Snape stood aside, slightly dumbfounded. Only Petunia could make him feel again like his petulant youthful self. The bristling irritation and spark of wickedness that whispered dark hexes in his ear. But years of far more testing moments tempered restraint into his heart.

He would make this concession tonight. He would not sate his own grievances on a day like today. Perhaps it was a bad precedent to set with Petunia, who had a history of taking a mile whenever she was offered the hint of an inch. But it was not to be tonight that he would lay that upon the table. He would do all that he could to ensure tonight passed with as little conflict as possible.

After all, peace between his daughters was all Lily's father ever wanted. Snape could think of no better way to honour the man's memory than to swallow his pride and leave the two in peace. Even if nothing would come about between the two sisters, tonight at least would not be marred with conflict.

Tonight at least, will pass with a semblance of peace.

* * *

It ranked among the most surprising things within Lily's short life thus far. Severus, dressed in his bathrobes, standing sheepishly at the door to her bedroom. He looked on the verge of bolting as she stared up at him with a bleary-eyed smile.

"I wondered who would come a-knocking at this unreasonable hour. Couch not doing it for you, Sev?" Lily teased in a whisper. Her sister slept only a room away and if she awoke, Lily knew she would never hear the end of it.

From the mild scowl upon his face, Lily could see he was beginning to regret whatever fancy brought him here. "… It's nothing," he muttered, already turning away.

Lily's hand flew up to catch his. "You're here already, might as well have out with it," she prodded mercilessly with a sweet smile. Despite her exhaustion she had been having a hell of a time trying to sleep, and Severus' presence was honestly quite a welcome distraction from her second attempt to do so. She feared quite keenly the press of sorrow that came with solitude. The wallowing thoughts she could not keep at bay without company or activity.

"I had come to say goodnight," Sev muttered in his oh so endearingly self-conscious way.

"You woke me up to say goodnight?" Lily questioned relentlessly, with an upraised eyebrow and a knowing smile.

His scowl receded, still aggressively refusing to meet her eyes. "I had thought you might… find difficulty sleeping. My apologies for my incorrect assumption."

"No. You were right," Lily confessed. "I was really struggling to get to sleep."

"Disturbed thoughts?" Sev asked softly.

"Yeah," Lily confessed, her smile dying upon her lips. "I can't stop thinking… about dad. About what I had last said to him? What were my final words to him? When was the last time I thanked him… for just being there?"

Those dark eyes gleamed gently in the gloom. "I confess I hadn't been candid with you, Lily. I came here to check on you." A smile came to her lips. It was incredibly sweet of him to do so. "And if it isn't so presumptive of me… I wondered if you wished for my company tonight?" The smile slipped from her face in surprise. "I meant it not in any lascivious way. Only that… you won't be alone with your troubled thoughts."

The surprise did not still Lily for long. Without giving him time to change his mind, Lily yanked him in through the doors and closed it behind him. Without even pausing to think she brought up privacy wards about her room, causing the invited boy to raise an eyebrow in suspicion. "Only to keep you company, Lily. I'm not about to break my promise to your father."

"I know. It's so we can talk without disturbing Petunia," Lily excused herself hastily. She honestly didn't know what she expected from tonight but at the very least knew she did not need her sister commenting about it in the morning.

Lily slipped back into her covers, the little warmth she built into that nook already dissipating in the minutes she was away. Her woollen pyjamas were finally breaking into a semblance of textile comfort, and at the very least were keeping her reasonably warm so the shock of returning to cold covers wasn't terrible.

Severus looked exceedingly awkward as he made his way to her bed, laying his wand by the bedside before undoing his bathrobes with the utmost reluctance. Instead of wearing pyjamas like the rest of modern society, Sev insisted on wearing a nightshirt as if his sensibilities haled from the eighteen-hundreds. Even when Lily took him to shop for a new one in the summer, when he was left without much of his personal effects, Sev bypassed the entire selection of pyjama tops and bottoms to choose from the selection of robe-like sleepwear. All he needed was the nightcap to complete his reimagining of Ebenezer Scrooge.

"I swear your nightshirt makes you look forty," Lily grumbled as he slipped into covers.

"The exact look I was going for," he replied with unexpected humour, his black eyes all but lost in the deep shadows of the room.

Lily pulled in close, tangling her arms about his exceedingly warm body and watched him squirm with the proximity. He hadn't even noticed she was peeling back his silly little robe until she pressed her cold fingers straight onto his back. He actually hissed in surprise.

"Behave!" he growled, pulling his shirt straight back down to about his knees.

Lily couldn't help but smile as she felt the warmth of his flushed skin, a symptom of embarrassment, and likely involuntary excitement. But he had self-control enough to not act on it, she knew this now.

She curled up on her side, tucked in under his chin. She could feel his warm breath tickling the strands about her shoulder. His arm wound its way about her back, pressing her tightly into him. Warm, safe and comfortable. Lily felt sleep beginning to take her. The exhaustion of today, compounded by bouts of grief, was finally winning over her troubled mind.

Or so she had thought.

Like the insidious roots of an ever-growing weed, worries and stress chipped at her mind. Never had she so much to worry about at once before. With her father gone, her comfortable financial situation was no longer hers to be assured. She was an adult by wizarding standards, though not yet graduated, but she did not have even the first idea of how to be an adult. She did not have any investments or savings to fall back on except what she had left within her pockets, and soon, what she would receive upon the sale of this household. The realistic part of her knew all too well she did not stand a chance of keeping up with the mortgage.

This worry wore upon her exhausted mind, strangling her heart already mired by mourning. She couldn't help the tears that came sudden and unbidden, pressed down upon the hitching of her breath, hoping with all her heart Severus had the subtlety in him to pretend he hadn't noticed her miniature breakdown.

But Severus could never be counted on to let a moment of weakness pass uncommented.

"What's wrong?" he muttered, his hot breath tickling again down her back.

"It's nothing," Lily returned, turning upon her back so he could not feel her tears through his nightshirt.

His fingers brushed against her cheek, catching a tear as it tracked its way down. "Tears are rarely shed over nothing."

"I'm… just sad, Sev," she muttered thickly, feeling the dread in her heart over what was happening to her. She would return to Hogwarts far worse off than she had ever been in her life. The idea of an idyllic life awaiting her graduation, of easy support until she could find her place in her world, was crumbling beneath her feet.

Severus shifted, loosening the hold upon her waist to trail his fingers through her hair. An imitation of her own efforts whenever she had to comfort him. "I will be here for you Lily. Such that it may be," he murmured softly, breaking away the strangling vines upon her throat and heart.

 _I'm not alone in this._

She didn't know why, but that thought brought her an immeasurable amount of relief. Severus was in many ways worse off than she was, but she had never heard him complain once about his awful lot in life. Perhaps he had as a child, before adult sensibilities whispered to him that his life was not the norm, and that his lack was something to be ashamed about.

But Lily had known, had always been so sure of since their days together as children, that nobody had more to offer the world than Severus Snape. What would there be for her to fear with him by her side?

"It's weird to say Sev, but… this Christmas was supposed to be about you…" She shifted, seeking his dark eyes in the oppressive darkness. "It was supposed to be about… welcoming you to the family."

For a long moment only silence answered, and she had thought perhaps he had nodded off. But then his voice brushed aside the silence once more. "You have always made me feel welcome."

She felt a smile touch her heart. A strange idea tickled at the back of her mind, a thought that was in equal parts sudden, and no doubt to his mind, wrought with Gryffindor abandon.

"I… have always spent my Christmases with family. Well… except that first year in Hogwarts, I suppose. I had chosen to spend it with you, which in hindsight I think actually counts all things considering." She felt his dark eyes take hold of hers, even lost in the darkness she could feel his heavy stare. "This Christmas, with Petunia leaving in the morning… and with dad's passing… It'll just be us."

"I can't say I'm sorry to see Petunia leave," Sev muttered tartly, probably framed in good humour but meaning every sentiment.

Lily smiled, a small tired smile. She brought her fingers upon his cheek, tracing the sharp ridge of his cheekbone, trailing her fingers down to his stubbled chin. He hadn't shaved for a while it seemed because she knew now that it took more than a couple days for even the lightest of stubble to break upon his pale skin. She had never known him to be careless in his personal maintenance; events must have taken their toll upon him as well.

"Can I ask you something, Sev?" She broached, feeling a flutter of nervousness in the pit of her stomach. He must have heard the pitch of her voice because he seemed to suddenly perk with alertness. She didn't wait for him to dissect her tone, nor an invitation to continue. "Why are we waiting to get married?"

That question must have taken him by surprise as he stilled where he lay. "… We have gone over this-"

"Yeah but things have changed," Lily uttered in the rush, pushing herself onto her elbows as if physical height would make her seem more convincing than before. "I'm not under the comfortable care of my father any longer, I would have to start everything anew. Everything I have would be bundled into monetary form by the end of the month, and I'll have no home to return to when I graduate. It makes no sense to not forge ahead with our plans. To marry and see where life takes us."

"We can afford nothing more than a pauper's wedding." Sev sat up, towering over her in the dark with his tall thin form. "Do you want this… event in your life, to hold no more significance than a two hour ceremony in a half-cocked chapel?"

She chewed her lip, the image intruded upon her mind, of standing at the alter in a white flowing bridal dress surrounded by friends and family. An image that already began to fade, for her father would no longer be able to stand by her side. To give away his youngest daughter, as they had both wished for her wedding.

Slowly she sat, allowing the blankets to slide from her shoulders, the chill air clawing away at the warmth through her thick woollen pyjamas. "I don't want to wait any more, Severus," she murmured, laying her hand upon his chest, over his fluttering heart. "My father is gone... He won't ever be able to see his youngest daughter marry. Though I wish for my friends to be there, and perhaps even Petunia, I don't wish it enough to wait. I don't wish it enough to endure another Christmas without being family."

Severus stilled, and for the longest moment neither spoke. She wished dearly she could pierce the darkness and see clearly his face, even half as clearly as she could see his heart. She knew how dearly he loved her, she knew his insistence to marry when he was comfortably set in life was for her sake.

But there was no longer the possibility for her to live comfortably as they both settled into their lot in life, readying themselves financially for responsibility. If they were both to broach upon the world by their will and wiles, she would rather they do it together. "I wish to marry you, Severus Snape. Soon, before the New Year takes a hold."

Severus finally spoke, his voice deep, and ladened with unspoken thoughts. "You will regret it."

Lily pulled in close, tangling her arms about her fiancé, pressing her own fluttering heart against his. "To bind my life with yours? To live my life in love and loved in return? I won't regret it, Sev. I promise I won't."

The minutes passed marked by the beating of their heart. She did not know how long they sat there, tangled in an embrace of doubt and anxiety. She did not know what the future held for her, how difficult her life could possibly become, but she knew one thing for certain. She would rather face it with love in her life, and deep in his heart she knew he must too.

She felt his smile more than saw it, a small relent of breath that set her heart to song. "There won't be many respectable chapels that do weddings on the cheap at this time of year, especially not at this short of notice."

"Anything will do, Sev." She could not help the grin that threatened to split her face in two.

His hand had trailed along her temple, before brushing down the length of her hair, a tender touch that held within it anticipation, worry and joy. "Then we're really rushing into this?"

"Oh you've rushed into far more questionable situations before," Lily quipped lightly, pulling him close. "Like into my shirt when we barely took up snogging."

She felt the blush more than saw it, she wondered if he could sense her wicked grin through the darkness. "Are you never going to forget that?" he muttered, laying his forehead upon hers, his breath mingling with her own.

"Never!" she replied and leaned in, and found a similar smile pressed upon her lips.

* * *

It was perhaps a blessing and a curse that religion only had a casual place in magical society. During the Christmas period where muggle churches would be working upon rotation, the small chapels that served the magical folk only had one service upon the day for those few rare believers that still persisted in a world where magic existed.

Because these wizarding churches were not swamped by the season, Snape was able to find one available. Even with New Year's only a heartbeat away, it was able to fit into its schedule a small marriage ceremony for the price of six Galleons. A blessing and a curse. For that meant he had the means to keep his promise, made on an emotionally charged night, to a girl who belonged to a House known for reckless decision making.

Snape adjusted his robes for the fifth time today, picking at the embroidered cuffs upon where twin deers leapt from the sleeves. He was pacing before a mirror, glaring at the reflection as if challenging the man who stood there to deny him this day.

This day he wanted since he first laid eyes upon his Lily. To marry the girl that had seemed but an impossible dream. To entice her into elopement and deny her the life she was meant for.

He met his own black eyes, scowling into those judging pits. He was not impatient, but she was, and despite his own better judgement he had conceded to her ill-thought out wishes. Would she still feel the same in a year's time? A month even? Or even upon the other side of the conjugal bed?

They had not even been courting for a year.

A sharp rap came at the door, followed by a thick Scottish accent. "Ye best be ready, laddie. Your girl is ready for the chapel. Five minutes and we're starting."

"Fine," Snape barked, perhaps a little sharper than he intended. He worried his sleeves again, his thumb tracing over the form of the leaping doe. He tilted his head back, worrying the tension from his shoulders without moving too brusquely to upset anything in this tiny room.

The church had offered him and Lily both a change room to prepare in privacy for the ceremony. A perk he had wasted by turning up already fully garbed and unwilling to do more for his own hopeless appearance than pull his hair into a slightly neater loose ponytail.

An irrational fear suddenly gripped him, that upon setting foot into the chapel, Lily, standing garbed and painted like a little porcelain doll, was going to take one look at the travesty of his face and realise what a mistake she had made. There was no question she would stand at that spot today, looking so achingly beautiful, that even the chaplain would wonder what she was doing with a tragedy like him.

Petunia certainly hadn't sugar-coated her remarks. She was quick to tell Lily and him how excruciatingly stupid their decision to rush into this had been and how she absolutely refused to be part of something so absolutely foolish; the only member of Lily's family and refusing to show for a two-hour ceremony.

And as for Lily's friends… she made no mention of any intention, or expanded effort to contact any of them. Perhaps she did not wish to appear the fool amongst them. The teenaged girl who rushed into marriage before she had even finished school. Perhaps she was ashamed to have them here, in this small ceremony, held in a tiny church, within the tiny village of Banchory.

This was not the start Snape wished to offer her. Every fibre of his sensible being was screaming at him to stop this madness. To take her out of this chapel and talk some sense into her stubborn skull. To tell her this wasn't what she wanted. There was more to life than to be married at the age of seventeen.

But all that was dwarfed by his own desire. His own selfishness that reared its head upon the sound of opportunity, that reached for this and refused to let go. He wanted her to be bound to his life, he wanted her in his world, and in his bed. Teenaged desires warring, and winning, against any adult rationality he could muster. Patience faded upon the alter of want. He did not, in his love-stirred heart, wish to wait the years that would make things right for her too.

Guilt was not an emotion Snape wished to carry to the alter, but as he stepped from the room and set his sights upon his beautiful bride, he could not shake the heaviness of his conscience. She was so beautiful, stepping up the aisle, her formal red muggle dress as close to a brides dress as they could possibly manage. Her lips were painted and her eyes were penned, but the powder upon her skin was light and her freckles still shone through upon her cherub face. She had remembered he loved her freckles.

But along her neck she wore that necklace gifted to her by a man who once upon a time would have stood in Snape's place. That fine chain of gold, bearing rubies upon its centre. Reminding him of everything he was not worthy of, and everything he denied her.

He had professed his love for her, beyond anything he'd ever loved. Yet that love was not enough to twist him from his selfishness and tell her she was worth more than this. She was worth more than a six Galleon wedding at a tiny Scottish village unremarkable upon any map of magical Britain.

He had proposed to sell his disk of pure gold to at the very least fund a grander wedding at a later date, but she had refuted the very notion. At the very least, he should have insisted that they postpone this slapdash wedding.

She deserved more than to be rushed through a decision made upon an emotionally compromised night. Worth more… but he was too selfish to deny her. He wanted this so badly. To have love in his world, a life he had been too long denied by his own foolish actions and the cruelty of chance.

Why did his happiness always lay upon the other side of his conscience? Why was guilt the one thing that was constant in his lives? Always entwined so deeply with one woman he loved. Why was he unable to stop himself from binding it there, to invite upon himself this burden upon his better heart? He loved her enough to want what's best for her and was clever enough to know that it was not him, not now. But he could not muster the will to tell her so, to deny himself the life he pined for.

Words were being uttered by the chaplain, formal words intended to forge this ceremony. No words made it through his haze of guilt and self-revilement, no words passed his lips when he knew things were not right.

But she stared up at him, those bright green eyes filled with excitement and delight, as if she wished for things to happen this way. As if she wouldn't regret it all in the years, or perhaps, days to come.

And he was all too willing to fool himself into believing it.

He clenched his teeth and released his breath, allowing all thoughts of noble action to subside. He wanted this, burned for it, enough to bear any guilt that was to come. He had so little in his life, why was it wrong to want something? Why could he not be allowed to act selfish for once? To do what he wanted to do.

To simply once, be happy.

* * *

A/N: So much for waiting for after graduation.

Another Saturday reserved for work. As promised whenever I know ahead of time I'm posting a day early. I have a feeling this will happen quite often.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 22nd September 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 43: The Promise of Always  
**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	43. The Promise of Always

**Chapter 43: The Promise of Always**

Morning came with a strange warmth and a haze of half-woken dreams. Lily's skin felt flushed against the soft quilt that lay heavy upon her form. It felt more like a spring morning than any winter she remembered, and had it not been for the drab greys playing across her eyelids, she could have believed she had slept through till spring.

 _Heating charms, that's all it is._ Her mind was slowly catching up to the realm of the waking. _Sev had cast it last night so that we might…_

Her eyes opened. The ceiling of her room solidified as she awoke, as did the memories of the day before. The day they had wed.

Lily turned to her side, slowly, teasing out the kinks in her muscles, savouring the sweet soreness that she could not quite place. There Severus lay, asleep as she had never seen him, more soundly than she could have ever imagined since the day she disturbed him upon his eve of night terrors. Did he sleep well last night? Lily had nodded off quite quickly. How long before he did too?

Softening her motions so she didn't disturb him, Lily wriggled to her side, peering curiously at his sleeping form. He was turned upon his front, the pillow pressed against his face along the side of his sizable nose, his black hair spilling across his face such that only one shut eye showed through the curtain of thick strands. His hand rested awkwardly between them, as if he had fallen asleep holding her, before the natural rhythms of sleep drew them apart.

 _He looks… at peace._

She had noticed the worry upon his brow everyday leading up to their slapdash wedding. His sensibilities must have been warring, as she knew they must. She had feared that in the end, sentimentality might win out and he'd call the whole thing off in some misguided sense of nobility. She had feared it right up till the moment they said their vows, when he hesitated upon his words.

" _Do you, Severus Snape, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?"_ The chaplain had prompted, to which he had stood stricken and uncertain for the longest moment of Lily's life.

But with one word, he had dispelled all of her fears, and sealed their lives together. _"Always."_

A smile touched Lily's lips. It wasn't as if he was the kind of man who would improvise lines to act overly romantic, it felt more like he had forgotten his lines and quickly fumbled for the first thing that came to mind. But his sentiment touched her. Always, he had said…

Shifting carefully in her blankets, Lily tried to wriggle closer to the sleeping form of her now-husband. The motion caused the blanket to slip from his shoulders, and the approaching girl to freeze. Not because he had stirred, but because it revealed those scars she had long stopped thinking about.

They were faded now, just white lines now, crisscrossing across his back. No hard edges outlined them and had the light been just a fraction dimmer they might have been invisible upon his pale skin. Softly, she pressed her fingers along one, following its path across his pale back. Had this been the first time she seen them, she might not have known what they were. Or how much pain lay beneath them.

More than any child should ever have to bear…

She realised suddenly that he had stilled, his rhythmic breathing had ceased. Lily withdrew quickly so that she wouldn't disturb him further, only to find his dark eye open and staring intently at her through his thick curtain of hair.

She didn't want their first words in the morning after becoming husband and wife to be on something so depressing, so with some effort she pushed thought of his scars to the back of her mind. "Morning," she murmured, pressing a smile upon her lips.

Severus said nothing as he shifted, turning over as he brought his fingers through his tangle of hair and brushed it from his face. Lily's eyes trailed down his chest, noting he wasn't so thin any more. He was by no means robust but at the very least his ribs no longer stuck through his skin. A slender man would be how she described him, a healthy layer of fat over where it used to only be skin and sinew. She wondered if he'd take it as a compliment.

His face too showed signs of this recovery. His cheeks were still sallow, but his face was no longer simply pulled thin. There were filling about his chin and smooth-shaven jawline, some plasticity to work with. His nose was still prominent, but it no longer stuck out as awkwardly as it did when his face was but skin upon bone.

His brows too, became fuller, casting even heavier shadows upon his eyes, if that were even possible. But nothing could hide the intensity of his stare, those black eyes that shone from his dark sunken pits.

His eyes were upon her, unwavering. Lily squirmed under the intensity of his gaze, sending her quickly snuggling back under her covers. "You're making me self-conscious," she muttered with a small smile so that he would know she meant it in jest.

Severus finally blinked and looked away. He turned upon his back and lay back down, directing his eyes to the ceiling without saying a word. Lost in thought, perhaps.

With a huff, Lily wriggled to her side again. She wanted their first morning together as husband and wife to be more than a few baffling looks and distant thoughts. She brought his hand from the blanket, the one bearing the silver band. She curled her fingers about his, allowing her own silver ring, her wedding ring, to rest upon his own. Just holding it there, until his eyes turned to hers, and a smile finally touched his reluctant lips.

He turned in his blankets, reaching over to envelope her in an embrace, pressing her close, skin to skin. He was warm, so warm. Comfortable in her contentment, she felt her eyes droop and breath shorten.

But suddenly that warmth left as all limbs untangled in a sudden rush. Lily's eyes popped open to find Severus pulling on his bathrobes, tying the chord hurriedly about his slender waist.

"What's wrong?" Lily asked, alarmed by the panicked look upon his face.

"I need to brew," he replied, his voice deep and muted.

Confusion was all Lily's morning mind could muster. The full moon was already passed, they didn't need to start Wolfsbane for another week at least. "For what?" she asked, genuinely missing the mark.

Severus paused in his haste to lay upon her a glare of disbelief. "For you. I do not need you risking pregnancy before your NEWTs. Exams will be hard enough without sick, and bladder issues, and the judgement of those haughty devils spawn we call peers."

A snort of laughter uttered from Lily's lips before she could stop herself. "That has to be the least romantic thing you could have possibly said to me first thing this morning."

His dark eyes were on her again. "What part of this whole experience has exactly been romantic?"

"Oh I don't know. Most of it." She gave a breathless giggle. "This whole cloak and dagger romance has been quite Victorian. It's almost like we eloped in secrecy, there's just something so thrilling about it."

If her excitement was in any way reflective of how he felt, he certainly didn't emote it quite as obviously. "I hope so," he muttered, on a completely different level of emotion she was on.

With a sigh, Lily pulled herself upright. If he continued to act so huffy this morning she was going to start to think she had somehow not been to his expectations. Except then his eyes were suddenly on her again, his black eyes stared with a far different gleam. They wandered down past her collarbone, and she felt a small thrill of enjoyment in knowing she didn't look too terrible first thing in the morning, or naked.

Quite boldly, Lily slipped across the bed to stand at his side, pressing close to his suddenly still and staring form. She wrapped her hands around his thin waist, enjoying how his breath caught, his face colouring with the knowledge that only a layer of woollen fabric lay between them.

"It's too late to regret anything," Lily whispered with a wicked barb to her smile. She threaded her fingers through his, silver rings gleaming together side by side, and brought it clasped together before their eyes. "You're mine now. Forever."

A smile came as his response, so bright and unburdened upon his face. Brighter than she had ever seen it. For the first time, in so many months, he looked as if he felt the touch of naught but happiness in his deep and troubled heart.

* * *

 _I should have worn more than just a bathrobe._ Snape lamented as he struggled through the knee-high snow from the makeshift potion-shed. The snow melted as it touched his heat-charmed bare legs, soaking his slippers with cold slush. In his hand was clasped the small vial of pink brew he had prepared for Lily, with ingredients he had purchased on the cheap and transmuted where needed. In hindsight he should have prepared a vial beforehand, but he had never been so optimistic about his chances in the past. Old habits die hard.

He knocked off the snow before entering the kitchen, immediately taken by the smell and the sizzling pop of cooking sausages. A floating spatula prodded them to the side as an egg prepared to occupy the newly freed space, but not before a dash of oil flung itself from the bottle beside it.

Lily sat at the table, trussed up warmly in her pyjamas and bathrobes, her hair damp with signs of a freshening shower. In her hands she held a newspaper with images disturbingly still and staring, thumbing through the pages in an off-handed sort of manner.

"Drink this quickly. Don't delay." Snape commanded as he set the potion on the table.

Lily glanced up from the muggle rag and did as requested. She gulped down the magenta liquid and smacked her lips in pleasant surprise. "Tastes like peach."

"Good to know, I haven't tried it." Snape replied dryly as he put a pot of coffee on the boil with a flick of his wand. A gift Lily had given him at Christmas, one he hadn't the energy to protest and honestly quite appreciated. And unlike the scarf Mr Evans had left for him under the tree, he wasn't keeping it out of sentiment and obligation.

Snape squirmed as he became increasingly aware how inappropriately he was dressed, standing in the middle of the kitchen, in company, kitted out in only a bathrobe that stretched to his knees. In his haste to start the brew, Snape had rushed down in only his bathrobes and slippers. He had never left the privacy of any room in so little. He needed to duck upstairs to change into something more appropriate.

"So why the rush for the dose? Does it have to be taken hot?" Lily asked, sending the empty flask to wash up in the sink.

Snape's lips twisted in a grimace as he drew the coffee grounds. "This potion works best within ten hours of the… event. Its effectiveness peters out sharply after that."

"Event, huh?" He could hear that smirk within her voice. She was going to insist on being a tease today it seemed. "So does it also work if taken before… events?" _Tease._

Snape turned an appraising eye upon her, taking in her grin of wicked amusement. "It gives a warding effect for up to two hours after it is taken." Snape confirmed, wondering if she was asking for academic or practical purposes. Was it a little too optimistic of him to hope today's breakfast would be followed with another tryst? If so heading upstairs to be fully dressed seemed a tad too hasty a decision.

He was leering at her now, picking out her form along the length of her woollen pyjamas. His highly visual memory remembered every curve of her supple form, pictured in his mind's eye. He could remember the tactile feel of her soft skin beneath his fingers, the sound of her breath against his ear… the soft moans he could elicit…

But his memory was too keen to be kind. With the force of his own Knock Back Jinx, his lascivious reminiscing was shattered by the unhelpful reminder that she was only seventeen, the very age one would be if they were his student. Snape almost groaned as that thought chased away his bliss.

Though technically he was not a professor, and verily, she was not his student, but this still raked of immorality. She was seventeen and he was thirty-eight, and even though he was not physically that age he was mentally so, and that was in many ways more important.

"Something the matter?" Lily asked as she plated up the eggs and sausages the wave of a hand.

Snape turned back to his coffee quickly to hide any more of his turmoil from her all too sharp eyes and sense of empathy. "I think I need to get dressed." He murmured as he poured out his cup of coffee. He had made enough for two cups but expected to drink both. Lily was not big on the bitter brew, preferring lighter, more citrusy drinks. As opposite to him in her choice of morning refreshment as she was in every other aspect in life.

"You can wait until after breakfast, right?" Lily asked as she arranged the meal with a flick of her wand. A plate of white toast sat on a plate between them, already buttered and ready. He had taught her those spells only half a year ago and already she had made them her own.

Snape shifted uncomfortably, the thought of teaching her anything suddenly made his moral conundrum a whole lot worse. The fact that he was severely underdressed only compounded this unfortunate awareness of this situation. He had never felt more like a lecherous predator.

Lily, however, was having none of his internal strife at the breakfast table. "Just sit your butt down and eat. You can wrap up later. I've seen your Heating charm. I know you're not cold."

Very self-consciously Snape settled himself across the table, setting down his cup of coffee and pulling to himself his plate of high protein breakfast. Lily already started on her transfigured toast, smiling even with a mouth full of crumbs, so oblivious to what she had done. Would she still smile had she known the man she had just bound to her life and took to her bed was her senior by more than double her age?

She had known once. Accidentally stumbled upon his secret. Carelessness on behalf of him and Albus Dumbledore that resulted in a blessing in disguise. Even knowing all she did she spurred him to try. Without which Snape could not have found the courage, the insensible audaciousness to confess.

How selfishly he wished for her to know. That she could knowingly consent to this irredeemable situation. But the memories of the truth sat bottled upon her mantelpiece. And he was not so foolish to risk her for peace of mind.

"Seriously though, if coffee does it for your mood as it did for my dad's, I want you to hurry up and finish it so you'd stop being such a sour puss," Lily snipped from across the table, dipping her toast into runny eggs.

"I'll feel better dressed," Snape muttered in reply but made no move to leave. For some reason he actually felt like he needed permission to vacate the table. Permission Lily did not seem willing to give.

"Oh come off it. Stop with the adorable self-consciousness," Lily complimented rather backhandedly. "I've seen a bit more now than just your skinny legs."

Snape shifted in his seat in discomfort and irrepressible smug satisfaction. "Apologies. I'm just… I feel… immoral," He confessed stupidly. She obviously would not understand exactly what was wrong in this scenario.

Lily cracked a small smile over the rim of her glass. "Aww stop it. We're married. That was dad's only prerequisite."

"Right," Snape muttered as he proceeded to disassemble his sausages into bite sized pieces. But his brooding bother was not allowed to pass unremarked.

"The 'too young to be frolicking' train of thought again?" Lily suggested dryly, hitting the nail quite close to the head. "I know it's hard to wrap your head around this concept, but we are the same age, Sev. It's just not all of us were born middle-aged."

"And that doesn't bother you?" Snape attempted quite bafflingly. "That my mental age differs so… drastically from yours?"

"Insulted is more like it," Lily muttered with her eyebrows pitched quite perilously.

Snape backpedalled. "I did not mean you were childish, Lily. I simply meant… I seem old. And I feared… I don't know…"

"You want my advice? Stop overthinking things," Lily offered with a point of her fork. "And get started on your breakfast, your eggs are getting cold."

Snape obliged, cutting his sausages into moderate bite-sized pieces and mixing slivers of egg into every mouthful. He never liked his eggs runny but he didn't want to complain, especially when he was a guest to the meal. But surely he was not a guest anymore. He could only guess, he had never been married before.

"And if truth be told, I like that you're on a different level of mental maturity to me," Lily offered suddenly without prompting. "It makes me feel like I married well, that I don't have to worry too much about the future. I don't even know how taxes work and whether or not they factor into our wizarding lifestyle."

"They do, just not muggle taxes,9" Snape replied almost on instinct.

"Wonderful, proving my point." Lily took another hearty bite of eggy toast.

Snape gathered his eggs about his cut of sausage and chewed his bite slowly, settling into this bizarre rhythm of normalcy. This was the life he had craved, he just wished he had done it in a more noble way. Or that she had known the truth of what she had traded for this life, this life with a man more than twice her age.

For Lily's part, she didn't seem at all bothered by the event that transpired. Happily oblivious as she summoned the orange juice from the fridge without even touching her wand. Satisfied with the marriage she had locked herself into, and the farce of a best friend she called her husband.

 _Why are there never easy solutions to my conscience?_

With a grin, Lily hefted her newly filled glass of orange juice. "A toast," she declared, "to rushing into things!"

"To Gryffindor judgement," Snape muttered as he clinked porcelain to glass.

Giggling into her drink, the lively girl downed a gulp. She seemed happy at least, a marginal relief to Snape. Indeed, when he awoke that morning, he had feared the worst. The expression upon her face had been akin to aghast. To Snape it had seemed she had finally awoken from the fancy that took her on this irrational entanglement and realised exactly what she had invited to bed.

But if she is to awaken to that realisation, it seemed it would not be today. Maybe not for many years more, at least until the day he could finally return to her the memories he had been forced to take.

"So, what are we doing for New Years?" Lily asked chirpily through a bite of toast.

Snape waited until he had swallowed his bite before answering. "It's in three days' time, I don't have anything planned." he muttered, feeling apologetic. He was at a loss over how to make New Year's special, and this was supposed to be their honeymoon at that… He couldn't even think that thought without feeling a squirm of guilt.

"Well if you have no ideas I was thinking about a movie that was just released in cinemas," Lily continued, bafflingly. Snape had no idea what a cinema was. "It's meant to be a super popular science fiction thriller about space wizards with laser swords-"

"Before you go on, I need to ask you. Does it cost money, and would you consider it frivolous spending?" Snape almost winced at how harshly lecture-like his words came out to be.

Her face fell. "It does cost… I mean… It's just…"

Snape hated this, this situation of poverty he brought upon her life. Up till this point Lily had never experienced any sort of hardship. Never had to go without on anything. Now she had only what was left in her spending account, and soon very little else. But she wasn't a child anymore, safe and coddled under the umbrella of safety her father brought her. She was a young woman, married to the one person who could not ease her life one whit, the one person who brought nothing to her life but further destitution.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to stop you so short," Snape muttered.

"No, you're right," Lily replied, a little abashed. "I have to start thinking about these sorts of things. It's a good thing you're good at this Sev. I mean…" She grimaced, likely thinking she hit upon a sore spot. She wasn't wrong, but Snape had patience enough for her. "It's just that… dad was so looking forward to this movie. He wouldn't' stop talking about taking me to see it during the Christmas Holidays."

Snape chewed his bite slowly, unwilling to speak until he ceased mastication, and with the hope that it would be further prolonged. A pause that was enough to mentally arrange an appropriate response for his less than adequate level of empathy. "I am certain your father would have… understood." Understood what? That he died? He cared deeply for the man and missed his passing but goodness he could be a dunce when it came to comfort and emotion.

A flaw Lily seemed all too willing to forgive. Her lips quirked upwards as if finding some line of amusement from his fumbling. "He wanted you to come too, watch it as family he said in his letters," Lily muttered. "I suppose it isn't relevant anymore."

"Your father's wishes are not irrelevant. Do not discount your sentiments, Lily," Snape offered gently, more gentle than he had ever been to anyone. "But what we can afford to do is now far more limited in scope. I'm sorry... for not being able to provide for you."

A grimace of annoyance flickered across Lily's face. "Right, because you, an ungraduated young wizard should be given the onus of financial burden. You have nothing to be sorry for. I would have been in this situation anyway whether we married or not. Difference is now that I have someone by my side who has his head on the right way and I won't have to weep in a corner over the stress of it all."

She offered her words lightly, no doubt intended with humour, but Snape could not help but scowl at that assessment. Lily had as good as admitted the situation was getting on top of her. She was in a vulnerable place, emotionally and financially. Another two vulnerabilities he'd managed to take advantage of on top of the obvious. Though he told himself he had not been seeking to exploit any of it, but he was a Slytherin through and through and he hand been in this game long enough to understand how all these factors played in a person's psyche. Understood, and had not done a thing to stop her.

She was his wife now, and he was her burden.

But his castigating thoughts appeared to bleed into Lily's sunny disposition as the smile slipped off her face. "If dad… if he were able to see us now, I think he'd be glad." Snape glanced up, touched by confusion. Lily set her jaws and continued, as if his response ignited determination within her. "That's what's got you so twisted up all morning, right? You're afraid this wouldn't be what dad wanted? That you had somehow… taken advantage of his passing?"

"Didn't I?" The scowl that had been threatening upon the edge of Snape's expression spilled forth, darkening his face with every shred of insecurity that passed his mind this day.

"He gave us his blessings, Sev," the blessed girl continued beseechingly.

He turned away, wishing those words of affirmation was enough to quiet his guilt. "Would he have wished us to marry so young?"

But Lily pushed back insistently against his troubled thoughts. "I think he would have been relieved, Sev. Relieved that I have someone so dependable, so wonderful by my side." She stood up in a rush, pressing both palms flat against the table. "Don't you think for a moment that he wouldn't want this, or that you are not worth marrying! I love you Severus Snape, and I married you. So stop feeling sorry for me and love me back like you were meant to."

Snape blinked up at those lovely green eyes, narrowed not in anger or chastisement, but determination. She loved him, how he had once longed for those words. How they stoked the embers of his heart, those embers that he had long thought extinguished by the cold, bleak world. This beautiful girl, this wonderful woman was his now, bringing colour and love to his life once so monochrome. Yet here he sat, wasting it with his overthinking and self-doubt.

She had willingly bound her life to his, and he made every selfish choice to allow it to be so. He had no way of righting the wrongs that came before, he can only live every day after with the consequences wrought. How familiar a concept that was to him, yet this time he walked this path burdened only by his conscience, balancing against the joyous contentment that sat quietly within his heart. One that only shone forth once he quietened the turbulence of burdened thoughts.

He slowly smiled, a hesitant expression, but brought about an instant returning smile from his wife. "My wife," he muttered, feeling the foreign weight of those words upon his tongue. "I have never stopped loving you." Not for this life, nor the last. This one constant in his ever-changing world. The only glimmer of joyous colour in his otherwise stark existence.

"Excellent, glad we got that sorted." Lily returned to her seat and to her mostly finished breakfast. "Now how about we discuss our plans for the rest of the day? It is still technically our honeymoon." She gave a wink as she took a sip of orange juice, invoking salacious thoughts and the involuntary flush that came with it.

With some effort, Snape put his foot down and wrestled some structure into his recent undoing of discipline, using the time it took to carefully chew through his bite of toast and sausage in order to wrangle his hormonal body and mind to firmer ground. "Actually, Lily," he began in a muted tone, trying his best to suppress the disappointment from his own decision from his voice. "A week of our holidays is almost passed, and we have not even begun on our homework."

Lily emulated every ounce of his disappointment without restraint. "Seriously, Sev? Homework? We don't even have all of it set! We left before most of our classes had finished. At most I have the homework from Transfigurations on Monday."

"Actually, I had it arranged with Dumbledore for our homework to be sent to us by owl. They arrived the day before yesterday… but we were simply both a little too over-tasked for me to bring it up."

She could not look more aghast with him, as if this was the grandest betrayal she never expected of him. She gave a most great and strained sigh, slouching into her seat as if a petulant child. "This is what I get for marrying a nerd…"

* * *

Back to school again, to studies and to duties. Christmas break passed too quickly for Lily, far too quickly. The funeral, the marriage, the settling into married life. Within the walls of the Hogwarts Express, everything that had passed in those two and a half short weeks felt surreal, like another life had been lived, in another world that was not her own.

For all his initial hesitation, Severus settled into the role of her husband and lover quite willingly, limited only by their lack of resources. As it turned out, Sev had only purchased enough ingredients to make that potion once, and when she offered to use their limited savings to procure more, he labelled it frivolous expenditure. But that didn't stop him from sleeping in her bed or enveloping her in the warmth of his arms and holding her as she drifted off. Whatever silly thoughts that worried itself into his head seemed to have sorted themselves out. He had made her promise if ever she felt uncomfortable with him that she'd tell him so. Still worrying about what she thought of him, no doubt. He was such a silly thing. One would think by now he would realise his looks were not an issue, and every quirk he possessed she had learned by heart.

He had been her best friend since childhood, seen him change from that shy, brilliant boy to one that was cast adrift, so lost she did not know if he would ever find his way back, then to this man, this wonderful man. Nobody knew him better, and now there was nobody she loved more. He had found his way back, and into her heart, and she would not have him ever think that he did not belong there.

It was with this bubbling thought, Lily smiled as he stood before their Student Leader peers, taking command of his Head Boy responsibilities with enormous competence. With a swish of his wand he distributed neatly cropped timetable schedule, penned with his spindly spikey handwriting and propagated efficiently with a Copying Charm. Taking command of duties expected of Head Students to ease the burden on the girl who had failed to manage her time around her schoolwork. Surprises upon surprises. He knew his duties without being told and knew what to do without instruction, like so many hidden talents she kept stumbling upon. He reads, that had been the reasoning he kept giving. She wondered what book had taught him to lead.

"We have no upcoming events this month, so this meeting is primarily for the distribution of today's patrol roster. Any further comments?" Severus glared about the room as if challenging anybody to drag this out longer than it had to be. Lily suppressed a sigh, his interpersonal skills still needed work. She was certain he wasn't trying to seem standoffish but that was what he was coming off as, and honestly nobody else was going to interpret it any other way.

His eyes narrowed especially when they paused upon a sixth year Hufflepuff boy, fixing him with such a glare that even Lily felt the desire to shuffle with discomfort. She wondered how Bulton Proud had offended his sensibilities when that boy had spent the entire meeting glumly silent. Perhaps Severus thought his attention might have been elsewhere.

"Well then if there's nothing else, we're not going to keep you." Lily dismissed the meeting before Sev could act on his apparent bad mood, beaming her bright smile, not wishing for anyone to leave on a downer note. It seemed her role had been changed to public relations.

The hand full of prefects started gathering themselves to leave; there were not as many of them for this ride as not everyone chose to leave Hogwarts for the holidays. Usually the Head Girl and Head Boy were the only two duty bound for the ride, but exceptions could always be made under circumstances, especially when there was others competent enough to be trusted with the leadership role.

"Thanks, Remus." Lily approached her fellow Gryffindor Prefect as he stood politely by the door to wait for the carriage exit to be less crowded.

"You're welcome. But for what?" he replied quite cheerily. His skin was almost glowing for how happy and healthy he looked. The full moon had fell at Christmas, and undoubtedly he had just passed his transformation amongst family. She could only imagine the happiness the miracle brought to his father, that they were able to spend the Christmas as a family and not worrying about the curse. It was one of those moments she felt the sudden fancy to hug Severus and confuse him with nonsensical mutterings about how wonderful he was.

She returned the grin, so blissfully happy at that moment. "For taking on my duties for the train ride back at the beginning of holidays. I know you were hoping to Apparate down to Godric's Hollow for a quick visit to the Potters along with the rest of your friends."

Remus' smile faltered suddenly, as if he was suddenly reminded of something. A reminder Lily was given too, for it was no secret to why she had left so suddenly. "It was no trouble at all, Lily. No trouble." He paused, as if trying to untangle a sentence into the least abrasive form it could possibly take. "How are you, anyway?" It turned out his effort resulted in the most generic attempt possible.

"If you're asking about my dad's funeral, it was nice. Sad, but nice." Lily gave a weak smile, she couldn't think on this without her emotions teetering on the brink, not so soon after the funeral. "Petunia did a good job with the service. He wouldn't have liked anything ostentatious."

Remus gave a small grimace and braced his hand upon Lily's shoulder in a comforting gesture. "We're all here for you, Lily. If you ever need anything, just ask."

"I know. Thanks, Remus." He was such a sweet boy. "I'm just ready for everything to be normal again, you know."

"Absolutely." His smile and words were both given with genuine empathy. He had lost a mother not too long ago. If anyone could come close to understanding how she felt, it would be him. Turning to the now unengaged door, he offered her one last quirk of his lips. "Come by later if you feel for companionship. Marlene's decided to grace us with her company and could likely do with yours if you feel up for it." The unsaid sentiment touched Lily's heart, for why else would an of-age witch choose to catch a six-hour train over instantly Apparating to her destination.

"I will drop by later, thank you." And with that exchange of smiles, the sandy haired boy slipped out the door, leaving Lily to hold her confusing bundle of warring emotions. And the look on Severus' face when Lily turned to him, certainly did not help.

His lips were drawn back in quite literal dislike, making no secret of this fact at the very least. It always baffled Lily how Severus could possibly hate him as much as he did James and Sirius. She understood why he would hate those two, they can be real jerks. Perhaps it was because he was a werewolf, and he was simply prejudiced. She didn't like to believe it, but she could.

With a sigh, Lily slipped in close, running her fingers through his hair. His black expression melted away instantly, as she knew it would. She had learned quite quickly where his comfort lay and just as quickly began to take advantage of them where she could. "Don't glower at people," she muttered with a quirk of her lips. "It makes you all…"

"Scary?" he muttered. So, he was aware of this issue.

"I'm used to your quirks but others might get the wrong idea," Lily continued running her fingers though his tangled locks, he never made a habit of keeping up his appearance. His philosophy to personal grooming closely resembled a defeatist attitude, why bother when there was nothing he could possibly do to look good.

"For them it might be the right idea,"h muttered in foul humour. Lily suspected the return to Hogwarts and reality was riding upon his mind as well. He had been perfectly sweet when they awoke that morning, but he was always sweet with her. Perhaps that was it, he only ever really let his guard down with her, everyone else he could not keep far enough away.

With a soft flick at his nose, Lily tutted good naturedly. "You know what they say about flies and honey."

"That they drown if you stick them in?"

She snorted with laughter, his humour always had a way of taking her by surprise. How he could say such silly things with such a straight face she could never know.

He leaned in suddenly and without warning, taking her lips with a swift kiss. Unanticipated and uninvited in his affections, but not unwelcome. She tightened her fingers in his hair, preventing him from leaving as quickly as he approached.

"I'm going to miss you," he muttered in unexpected sentiment.

Lily grinned as she met his eyes, those dark intense eyes. "We're going to the same school. You mean you're going to miss waking up next to me."

That coaxed a sheepish smile from his thin lips, as if he was caught out on something mildly unseemly. She wasn't going to allow him to re-tread those doubts. With a swift motion, she leant in, returning his quick kiss with a lingering one. She felt him momentarily tense, then slowly relax into the sensation, his fingers settling upon her waist.

He was almost comfortable with their exchange of affections now, not so hesitant to approach or engage. Perhaps he was finally convinced that this sort of interaction was not unseemly, this this was what people in love did. And this is what she wanted from him, some semblance of spontaneous affection.

But whatever enjoyment she was taking from the moment, she had to relent. Severus would probably appreciate her cluing him into the pair of eyes staring at them through the door. "Someone's here to see, you Sev." He withdrew, momentarily confused, before starting and turning to the door and setting eyes on a small Slytherin who stood there wide-eyed and staring.

This was another one of those moments she wished Sev would not scowl on default. The young Slytherin boy looked as if he was moments away from fleeing the cabin, except he couldn't seem to back out of the door. Another hand pushed him inside, another Slytherin boy, and her fellow Prefect, Rawkas. With him came a small crowd of younger Snakes, all sheepishly staring about the cabin in every way but directly at the two Head Students.

"Sorry for interrupting your moment, Snape, but some of our Slytherins wanted a word." Rawkas announced quite boldly, as if heedless of embarrassing the Head Boy and incurring his wrath. But then the young Prefect had already worked with Sev for the better part of a year now, and like most that got to know him would likely realise his scary disposition did not belay any form of threat.

"And you thought to bring them to the Prefect's Carriage?" Sev scowled, not softening his disposition in the face of scared younger children.

To Rawkas' credit, he did not back down. "It's the best place to speak privately. They had just come from home… and home is not a welcoming place to changing views. They need to talk to you."

Severus silenced, his scowl receding from his severe face. Responsibility was rearing its head, holidays were well and truly over.

Lily gathered her cloak and duffle bag, knowing all too well she had no role in this. Slytherin matters were all Severus, and the best she could contribute was to not meddle in what he had to do. "I'll leave you to it then, Sev. I'll see you later." She left with a quick smile and a hold of his hand. She knew better than to seek out anything more from him when he had already settled into his duties.

She slipped from the door and made her way down to the next carriage. The sound of chattering was quite shy and muted, telling Lily her first set of patrols had passed through not long ago. There was no permanent solution to keeping order, but at least the regularities of patrols ensured no troublemaker had too long to reign havoc.

Slipping from door to door, Lily glanced in to see if she could spot some familiar faces. Some had the blinds drawn, which Lily dealt with immediately with a knock at the door and a polite reminder to keep the windows clear. Though nobody was against privacy amongst the student populace, these rules were set in place to minimize damage to public property. Nobody wanted half-trained rambunctious teenagers blowing up a carriage with a prank.

It took a few tries, but Lily eventually got to the one occupied by her friends. Marlene, Remus and Peter sat together in a very lonely compartment. There were far fewer patrons on a train service running holidays, otherwise this would have been considered an inappropriate hoarding of space.

"Hey guys, tight ship you're running today," Lily chirped into the desolate cabin. The space really made the absence of the rest of their friends known. Most usually didn't bother taking the Hogwarts Express after gaining the ability to legally Apparate after sixth year.

Peter hadn't yet qualified, despite having made several attempts at the Apparition exams. Unfortunately for him he simply kept failing. Sirius had chalked it down to a bad blend of stage fright and foul luck. Lily honestly thought the poor boy just stunk at it like he did in most classes.

Before Lily could levitate her bags into the overhead, Marlene swept swiftly to her side and enveloped her into a rib-crushing hug. "Lily. I'm so sorry…" She muttered, as the smaller girl struggled to breathe. "I'm here for you alright, Lil's? Need anything, just tell me. Anything at all."

"Air…" Lily gasped, beating her fists helplessly against her best friend's muscular shoulders.

"Oh you drama queen," Marlene grumbled as she obliged, releasing her gasping friend and returning to her seat with a gesture to the spot beside her. There was plenty of room in this carriage today but the friends had selected to all bundle together by the pelted window.

London just about never snowed, rather a freezing drizzle had begun when the train pulled out from the station, morphing into this sleeting storm. The storm was no doubt only going to grow frostier the further north they went, until the train would be coated by a heavy cake of ice frozen solid by the blizzards in the Scottish Highlands. It was one of those times Lily could truly appreciate the invention of heating charms and how expertly the enchanter must have woven it about the inside of the train.

With a flick of her hand, Lily sent her bags to the overheads, happy to take her best friend up on the seating arrangement. Peter sat opposite to her, his watery eyes wide and darting about the carriage, no doubt trying to arrange words of consolation, or the courage to deliver them. Remus glanced curiously to the door and asked. "Is Snape not coming?" That idea sure seemed to give little Peter a fright.

"No, he's got stuff he's got to do, Slytherin kids he's got to mentor." She replied quite proudly.

Lily could actually feel an edge of tension being taken out of the room. Lily turned a look of betrayal about her friends, she thought they were getting over the whole antagonism deal. "He's not a bad guy!"

"Don't take this the wrong way, Lil's, but your fiancé's… not fun to be around." Marlene muttered, no doubt muting her opinions in deference to her grieving best friend.

"He's been there for me, Marlene. He's the kind of guy I can rely on. So what if he's a little awkward at parties." Lily beseeched to her small cluster of friends. "My dad's funeral would have been a lot harder if he hadn't been there to hold me through it." Her friend averted her gaze, a look of contrition being shared amongst them, even little Peter who had not yet said a word. "Besides, he's not my fiancé any longer. We married in the holidays," Lily announced, quite suddenly and quite brazenly.

The silence that answered her was deafening. There wasn't even a look of surprise upon the faces of her friends, stunned frozen too quickly to even register their surprise. It was Marlene who defrosted first, her response harsh and fiery. "You WHAT?!"

"Umm, we married," Lily tried again meekly. Upon reflection she could see how this news might seem to have come about rather suddenly. "Sorry I hadn't invited any of you… it was rather sudden."

"I'll say," Remus replied weakly, with a forced smile upon his face.

"So soon after your father's funeral?" Marlene went on with a hint of aghast in her voice, her face was awash with frazzled thought.

A tickle of colour touched Lily's cheeks. "It just happened alright? I mean. My dad had just died and my sister was… well, my sister. I was falling apart, and Sev was there, and it just felt… right." She didn't know why she was explaining herself like she was trying defend what they did. It wasn't wrong, it hadn't felt wrong at the time.

Marlene's face remained mired with etched concern while Remus could only offer his faltering smile. Peter, however, did not appear half as bothered with thought. "Congratulations," he offered timidly, before quickly withdrawing into silence as he realised that he was not on the same vein of thought with his friends.

"Thanks Peter, for being the first to congratulate this milestone in my life," Lily grumbled, unintentionally causing that shy boy to shrink inwards.

"What do you want me to say, Lil's, 'Congratulations, I hope you don't regret it?'" Marlene muttered, her worry still etched upon her brow.

"How about 'congratulations' and leaving it at that?" Lily shot back heatedly. She didn't know what was worse, the creeping realisation over how rash her decision must seem or her friends' refusal to humour her. She gets that Marlene wants the best for her, but who was anybody to judge what was best?

"It was all just… very sudden. Congratulations Lily," Remus attempted in a not-at-all convincing fashion.

Marlene was quick to shoot him down. "Oh grow a spine would you, Remus?"

"I don't know, I quite think he's got the right about it," Lily fired back, despite the fact that she had said the same on occasions that did not pertain to opposing her. A hypocrisy she was well aware of but chose to ignore.

Peter shrunk further into his seat as if attempting to physically disassociate himself from all the negativity in this compartment. Remus, however, leaned forward, as if attempting to physically insert himself into what looks like an argument that would rapidly devolve into tears. "Can we just all… take a step back and start over?"

"Look, I'm sorry," Marlene muttered, suddenly muted. "I didn't mean to snap at you. And I get you like… Severus. I have no idea why, but I was getting used to the idea." She paused a beat, seeming to struggle with what she wanted to say. "So yeah… married right after your dad's funeral. You freaking out and jumping right in. That's not ringing alarm bells."

"What would you have me do, Marlene? Cry in a corner? Freak out over where my future was taking me? Because I considered that, and frankly it wasn't doing it for me."

Marlene sat struck dumb for a moment, looking as if struggling to find the words. But then she grimaced and settled back into her seat, leaning her head against the glass to glare at the sleeting rain. The silence that fell between them sat heavy in Lily's heart. Remus gave a small nod of encouragement but said nothing to broach that silence. Peter couldn't even look her in the eye.

Lily sighed, sinking back into her chair and resting her head against the top of the coach seat. "Severus said the same…" she muttered, rocking her head side to side as if she were attempting to shake her head, glancing meekly over to her withdrawn friends. "He wanted us to wait… he didn't want to sneak off and do this. He kept trying to talk me out of it…"

"Voice of reason in your relationship then…" Marlene muttered against the window, her words fogging the glass.

A small giggle escaped from Lily's lips. "Infuriatingly so." Marlene's lips quirked up involuntarily at the sound.

"So what now?" Her friend asked, bringing her knees upon the seat to swinging about to face her.

Lily shook her head and shrugged, scanning her eyes about her small gathering of friends, trying to find sincere words that was not tainted by fear. Fear of the future, and the unknown. "Try our best, I suppose."

"That's all anybody could ever ask for," Remus offered gently, a tired smile upon his face. Peter glanced up and quickly nodded his own conforming approval.

"And we'll always be here for you," Marlene relented finally to her smile. "Don't you ever be a stranger, Lil's. You're always welcome with me until you find a place to settle. Even Severus, I guess. I can stick him in with the owls."

Lily giggled and slid over to pull her best friend into a hug. What was there to fear of the world when she had friends like these by her side? She would face her unknown future, knowing that every step of the way, she would never be alone.

* * *

A/N: So there was some questions about lemons. I'm afraid I'll not be writing any. I rated this fic T so nothing explicit will be shown. There will be mature situations and some sexual themes but those are all things I expect teens to be cool with. But hey, if anyone else wants to write lemons using the story set up I have, please go on ahead.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 6th October 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 44: Faultless Impasse**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	44. Faultless Impasse

**Chapter 44: Faultless Impasse**

Bulton Proud should have died during this Christmas Break; of this Snape was certain. He glared in confusion as the boy ushered some of his young clingy Hufflepuffs from their table in the Great Hall as if he could somehow glean the answer of this disparity from that boy's gormless head. Nothing should have changed in regards to this Hufflepuff's life; Snape had done nothing to prevent this tragedy. Death Eaters were supposed to storm the boy's household on the eve of New Years, after targeting his mother, Daily Prophet columnist Matilda Proud who had published an unflattering satirist article about the Death Eater movement. A brutal lesson intended to teach all those who would dare to insult the Dark Lord.

What did this mean? Did she not write the article? And what did this mean about the future? Was it already cast off course? The thought was both a relief and a worry, for that meant the days to come would no longer be within his realm of prediction.

Snape was mired with this concern on his march down to the dungeons, feeling the chill within those dark and dreary halls. Whether it was physical or transcribed dread he could not discern. His eyes trailing upon the young Slytherins who wandered this hallway, gleaning the surface of their thoughts as if anything upon the vacuous minds of youth could answer his questions. The world outside was not their foremost concern, not even for those that he once knew would one day have a place in the carnage to come.

Perhaps his push for change amongst his young charges bled into the wider world? These children's changed hearts were touching those of their parents.

 _Unlikely._ Snape thought with a sneering curl of his lips. Adult hearts are not so easily changed, especially not those who mire themselves in hate.

He had just spent several hours conversing with youths who did want to escape from all that, youths who confirmed exactly how hard it was when they conflicted with their parents on such issues. It was such a familiar story to Snape; that Death Eater parents would rather crush their children then allow them to choose a path they did not approve of. Too many years as the Head of House and he'd heard them all.

He glimpsed into the minds of all those children, they wore their concerns so vividly. Worries about disapproval from their parents, the validity of their choices, what the future might hold. Concerns he expected from children, and nothing that told Snape of how his influence affected the world beyond these enchanted walls. Worries he could not even begin to deal with.

As he stepped beyond the password-protected stone wall, the warmth of the common room rushed up to greet him. Slytherin Dungeon was by no means cosy, but compared to the frigid corridors beyond the entrance, it was positively snug. Yet somehow, it felt lonely…

His mind wandered suddenly back to the Evans Household in Cokeworth, the warmth he felt there heightened by the warmth of Lily's company. Was he honestly going to pine like some lovesick fool now? With a scowl, Snape yanked his thoughts away from longing, willing himself to be grounded in the here and now. It simply would not do to be so distracted by this new situation in his life. One that he had never come close to previously in either of his timelines. One he could still lose so easily by the vicious machination of fate.

His hand flew to his wedding ring, worrying it with his long dextrous fingers, a habit that only began as recently as this afternoon's train ride. The responsibilities he had to this war had once tied directly to the responsibilities he held for Lily's future. But now, with the war looming so dangerously close to him, so close to Lily, he could not help the overwhelming desire to simply flee with her in tow. To escape from this conflict of ever-growing uncertainty and to preserve this only spark of joy in his life, with the only woman he had ever wanted.

With a scowl he withdrew his hand. Cowardly thoughts invoking his self-disgust, as too this budding tendency to play with his ring out of anxiety. He had broken himself of bad habits long ago and was not about to work into another one. Had his tells been so obvious in his spy years he could not have lasted.

Stepping to his usual seat by the fireplace, he spied an unexpected figure in the darkened corner of the room. While it wasn't unusual for Urquart to sit there per say, it was simply one inconsistency that rubbed Snape the wrong way. "You were not at dinner," Snape observed, not intending his words as chastisement but invoking a withering slump from the boy none the less. An unusual response from the normally quite bolstered boy. "Is something the matter?" the Head boy ventured, not entirely out of concern, more out of curiosity.

From Urquart's set jaw, Snape would have guessed his next words would be where he should stow his curiosity. However to his surprise the Slytherin boy answered him straight. "Susan had been writing to me all holiday wanting to meet up until the weekend we returned to school… I told her I won't arrive until late tomorrow."

Snape's lips thinned with amusement. "How very unlike those of your peers your problems appear to be. How you must suffer so." He could not possibly add more sarcasm to his tone.

"I don't think you quite grasp the gravity of my problem," Urquart muttered.

"By all means, enlighten me," Snape prodded mockingly, actually genuinely amused.

Urquart returned a withering glare. "No thanks. You are the last person I want a heart to heart with." Well that certainly was an exaggeration. Though dour as he is, Snape couldn't imagine he'd rank below Mulciber or any number of those still hanging on within what's left of the Death Eater gang in Urquart's books.

"Yet you find no alternatives to cowering in the corner? I don't suppose rejecting her directly is an option?" Snape continued uncharitably, all too happy to return all the grief Urquart laid on him in the days when the sum total of his love life involved remembering how to act like a human being whenever Lily spoke to him.

"Gee thanks. You sure bring real out-of-the-box thinking, Snape," Urquart snapped back with an impressive bite of sarcasm.

"Will you be engaging in this act every weekend she asks of you?" Snape prodded mockingly.

Urquart didn't even look the least bit abashed. "I was made Youth Representative to Wizengamot this term so I genuinely won't be available some weekends. Whether I represent those weekends truthfully is another matter entirely."

"So I take it you have tried to take your objections to her directly?"

"And she remains incredibly tenacious…" The boy pressed his fingers to his temples as if attempting to ward off a headache.

"You are doomed, I'm certain," Snape sneered, settling himself into a chair opposite and content to leave things at that. His attention was captured by the shifting wall, and the student that shuffled in.

Regulus Black, a boy he knew to be a Death Eater within the Inner Circle, for the branding upon his arm could not mean anything else, strode in shoulder to shoulder with Rosier. Neither spoke nor turned their eyes in the watcher's direction.

Snape threaded his fingers and followed the boy with his eyes, pondering if any information he could glean from the boy was worth doing so forcibly. The young Death Eater already knew of Snape's power of Legilimency so there would be no doubts as to who amongst those present had forced their way past his Occluding mind. While Snape had no doubt as to how to navigate his way through the mind of an unwilling, the risk was marking himself as a direct target. He did not know how much news of himself had already made it to the ears of the Dark Lord and his servants, but he knew they could not be ignorant of his existence, not with the upset he was creating amongst their young and soon-to-be-initiated. How much of a thorn he was regarded as, was another matter entirely.

There was every chance the Dark Lord would not even pay a fleeting mind to his existence, believing his little rebellion to be naught but children's play at politics. But to his side Wilkes and Travers would go, and with them no doubt their enmity. The Dark Lord had a soft spot for granting favours whenever he is especially pleased by the actions or conduct of one of his own, or whenever such things tickled his fancy. Snape could only hope that nobody with him on their mind would make that rare request.

As for where Regulus' path lay in all this, though Snape knew ultimately the boy would eventually have a change of heart and disappear, it would be years from now. Whatever was to happen in the boy's life, likely hadn't happened yet, and Snape knew all too well how sure one could be upon the wrong path. The boy had a heart that could be moved, but the key to doing so was still illusive. Perhaps time was the only key, but even that was uncertain, for events were no longer proceeding as Snape could predict.

Snape folded his hands and bade himself patience. There was more than one path to any information sought, a lesson any spymaster learns while surviving their craft. And if the world was to turn too quickly, he would not be too long out of the loop. For Dumbledore would be the first to urge him into haste, as he had once before when he knew the end was near.

Without a word between them, Snape and Urquart sat in that corner, content to brood away in their own little worlds. It was into this heavy atmosphere that Mulciber lumbered, his travel-case looking ridiculously tiny in his large cumbersome hands.

"Did someone die?" he asked, seeming genuinely confused.

"I'm mourning the fact that you didn't," Urquart replied, it seemed the holidays did nothing to dampen hostilities.

With a heavy scowl, Mulciber made to throw his luggage at the boy, but seeming to change his mind mid-arch. Urquart reacted none-the-less, leaping to his feet, wand in his hand. If Mulciber feared getting hexed, he certainly didn't seem it as he turned his back and waddled to the dormitory stairs, his luggage held far more carefully between both hands.

"Great oaf," Urquart muttered as he stowed his wand away.

With a sigh Snape leant his head back against the high back of the chair. "That _oaf_ is trying to leave the path of his past. I would thank you to make an effort to assist him."

A dark frown touched the boy's fair brows as he cast his eyes down to Snape. "I hadn't realised we're playing counsellors."

Snape pressed his thin lips to a grimacing line. "Perhaps I prefer not to be seen discouraging these types of progress."

"Thinking about leaving a legacy so soon?" Urquart muttered as he settled himself back into his chair.

"I have to, I'm graduating at the end of this year," the grimacing young man replied. "And with me will go progress unless this change is instilled into the next generation of Slytherins."

"And you think to do this by holding Mulciber on a pedestal?" With a snort and a shake of his head, Urquart grinned darkly as if terribly amused. "You do not think much of the ability for critical thinking of children do you, Snape?" Indeed he did not, but he knew better than to voice his thoughts aloud. Urquart continued, his smirk taking on a thoughtful look. "Ideas die without those to champion them. Without you I do not think this peaceful route of darkness from these halls would last a single year. Rather, I think you should train a replacement. Another weirdly charismatic oddball to draw idiots from the darkness."

"Is this advice coming from the Gryffindor in you?" the Head Boy scathed. Grooming a replacement Snape sounded too much like the self-lauding style of narcissism that House was known for.

Urquart did not even make to deny it. "Perhaps. Why would that invalidate it? Leadership, after all, falls within the Gryffindor spectrum. We accomplish more doing as other Houses do, especially when their strengths are our weaknesses."

A thin amusement touched Snape's lips at wisdom he did not expect from youth. "You come from a multi-house family it seems." Because wisdom at his age always came from a source.

"My father is a Gryffindor and mother a Ravenclaw, while my uncle is a Hufflepuff. They do not come to blows over this," he answered with a mirroring smile, his clever mind likely realising he was caught out repeating taught wisdom.

With a relenting nod, Snape leant back in his chair. He did not fault the unique insight offered by the boy, but he knew it was not advice he could follow. For Severus Snape was Slytherin through and through, and he did not stand upon the pedestal with relish. Least of all would he attempt to mould another in his image, or lead another onto the path he chose to walk.

A path he would not have chosen, had he been given the choice. For danger stalked these roads, and he no longer walked alone.

* * *

The noise in the Gryffindor Common rooms was deafening. So much so that somehow it even made the cheerily spacious common room feel positively overcrowded and stuffy. But that didn't make sense; how does noise fill up physical space?

These were all philosophical questions Lily took to pondering in the calming privacy of her dorm room. Mary was already inside, crippled by her migraine. Fortunately, it looked as if this session of a headache wasn't all that terrible as the girl sat bundled up in bed reading.

"It's all pretty intense out there. Anything happen during the break?" Lily asked as she swung her duffle bag onto her bed and proceeded to kick her shoes off.

"No idea, wasn't here for Christmas," Mary returned, not even poking her head out from of her bundle of quilts. Her headache must be slightly worse than first guessed.

Lily loosened her school robes and proceeded to dump the contents of her duffle bag out onto her bed. Unfortunately she forgot about how much extra she had packed and subsequently poured out half her lounge room's worth of trinkets. Wincing, Lily began shoving the snow globes back into her bag, simply glad that Severus had such a reliable Unbreakable Charm. This was all that was left of her father that she took with her to start her life anew, and for it to break so early upon her journey…

As she suppressed a shiver of sadness, Pandora sat up from her corner of the room at the sound of the commotion, dislodging Achilles from her lap with the start. "Oh Lily, you're back," she exclaimed with a surprising amount of surprise.

"Why wouldn't I be? School's started," Lily replied as she returned the last bauble into her bag, then realised she had buried all her schoolwork.

The girl slid from her bed to find her slippers. "I just thought you might have wanted to spend a little more time with your sister. Aunt Minnie said she sent permission slips to you to miss school if you chose."

"As if Sev would let me miss any more school," Lily retorted with a snort. Truth was she did not feel like spending any more time trying to hold together her past. Her house and all of its affects was in the midst of being prepared for sale by a muggle solicitor her sister had hired on her behalf. It was a kind gesture from Petunia, making their on-off relationship all the more baffling.

"Oh my goodness! That's right, your father!" Mary exclaimed, bursting from her cacoon of blankets to struggle to the edge of her bed. "I'm so sorry, Lily, it slipped my mind. Blast this headache." She flitted over to Lily's bed to pull the grieving girl into a hug. Even Pandora, who usually was not as sharp on social expectancies, approached, knowing her friend needed comfort.

"I'm alright now," Lily murmured into her friend's chocolate curls. But it was a long while more before Mary released her from her tight clasp.

The chubby muggle-born leant back, scanning her friend with a pinched expression upon her brow. "You can't be alright. People don't get alright that quickly."

"Yeah, but I'm past crying." Lily felt her lips quirk up in a flimsy attempt of a smile.

"Oh Lily. Oh honey." Mary resumed her rib-crushing hug, to which Lily surrendered. She needed this, and despite having Severus' company and comfort, he was never a tactile man. Though he would embrace her whenever she asked him, it would always be tempered with self-conscious restraint. Perhaps that was why she had tempted him to the bedroom so eagerly, it felt as if that was the only time when he touched her without inhibitions.

Pandora sat herself on the end of Lily's bed, folding her hands as if patiently waiting. She was another that did not subscribe to tactile displays of comfort, but was always willing to talk and listen. "So what now?" she asked with a serious look on her face.

"I finish school," Lily replied, slipping out of Mary's loosening embrace. "I get a job and find a new home, with Severus."

Mary cocked a brow as her lips twisted in gentle amusement. "Are you two now planning on marrying straight after graduation?"

"Well, actually…" Lily could not help but crack a sheepish smile, "he and I got married over the holidays."

"You're joking!" The brunette stared at her agape. But before Lily could think the girl might have felt offended by being kept out of the loop, she grinned and enveloped her back into a hug. "That's wonderful news, Lily. I'm so glad the holidays gave you something to be happy about too! Lily Snape!"

"Lily Snape?" She repeated stupidly, before realising that was her name now. "Oh goodness, that's right, I take the last name of my husband after marriage don't I? I'm Lily Snape now."

"I mean you don't have to," Mary giggled.

"It is the choice of the modern woman. That is what Aunt Minnie told me." Pandora added solemnly.

Lily lapsed into silence, digesting this sudden revelation. It wasn't that she wasn't aware that women tended to take on the last names of their husbands, but in all the excitement she forgot it applied to her too. What was the name printed on the marriage certificate? She did take his by default, didn't she? Though it saddened her to realise that she wouldn't be able to carry a part of her father with her in name, it all felt far worse to ignore the new life she set herself upon in favour of an old one she was determined to leave behind.

Lily Snape. It felt strange to think aloud, and stranger upon her tongue. "Things have really changed, really quickly haven't they?" She murmured, eyes suddenly glistening with unspoken emotion.

Without a word, Mary swept her grieving friend back into her hug. Pandora watched the display mutedly for a moment more before finding words of comfort. "Change… isn't all bad." A very Pandora way of comforting people, skirting around the emotional side of things.

"It isn't," Lily muttered with a watery smile. "I love Severus, so it really isn't."

"You're very brave, Lily," Mary muttered as she released her again. "I hope I can face change with half the amount of fortitude as you do. Come graduation, I think we'll all need it."

A smile peaked from Lily's lips, relieved to be given a course to change the topic. "Sorry for not remembering but… what were you doing again?" While Lily knew of Pandora's ambitions along the path of wand making, and Marlene spoke only of playing Quidditch professionally, Lily had no notion of what her fellow Muggle-Born had intended as her future directions.

"I never mentioned it," Mary smiled sheepishly, an expression Lily had never seen of the girl. It gave Lily outrageous ideas about what the girl's ambitions lie. "It really isn't as wild as you think," she mumbled as if she were a mind reader.

"Well, come on. Don't keep me in suspense," Lily urged, shifting about to draw her legs onto her bed, partly to face her friend, but mostly to get away from the claws of the little black blighter that snuck swiftly under her bed. Achilles had it in for her.

With a relenting sigh, Mary shrugged, before admitting the single most shocking thing to Lily's sensibilities.

"I plan on returning to the muggle world when I'm done."

Silence reigned supreme for a good ten seconds, as it seemed all three girls had to process what had been admitted. Pandora was the first to speak. "… Huh?" was all she managed. Lily, however, had not yet managed to unstick her dislodged jaw.

"I know it sounds crazy, I have all this education in a place I don't intend to find my career in… but guys, I was never into settling down into small communities. I was all about big cities, and amazing adventures, being free and untethered. Magic gave me that, but the community of magic is too small. Too cloistered."

"You want to… give up magic?" Lily could not comprehend it. This was a special gift she could never dream of living without, and here Mary was, defying her reality.

"I don't want to give up magic, Lily," Mary replied, her eyes weren't rolling but the exasperation in her voice spoke otherwise.

Pandora piped up. "But you'd have to. The Statute of Secrecy prevents you from living a magical life amongst muggles."

"Not if I don't reveal myself." Mary smiled almost smugly. "There's been plenty of cases of magical folk living out amongst muggles with nobody being any the wiser. Besides, I was still going to live in a registered magical residence and keep up to date with the magical goings on. I'm just going to find a job out in the muggle world, using my special abilities to oil my way forward."

"Are you even prepared for a muggle career?" Lily asked with a frazzled tone in her voice. Mary never took Muggle Studies as a course, and if she were anything like her fellow muggle-born compatriot then that world she spoke of might as well be a foreign country they only knew by birthright.

But if Mary held any concerns over this, she did not look it in the least. "I'm travelling next year, experiencing the world a little more before I make plans to join it. I was told I could take my GCSEs, which is the muggle equivalent of NEWTs, whenever I wish, I simply have to prepare myself without a teacher's aide."

"You don't need any of my bravery, you're bold enough without it," Lily remarked with a nervous giggle.

"I hope you find success," Pandora added most formally. "Also, please keep an owl. I would most love to hear how you find your way around to applying magic to muggle life inconspicuously."

Mary smiled and agreed readily. "And I would love to hear from you and your adventures with Wand Making."

It was as these sentiments were being aired that Marlene decided to finally leave the lively throng of Gryffindors downstairs to join her almost equally lively roommates. "What have I missed?" she asked as she spied the three girls gathered around her bedspace.

"Ah the Quidditch player to be has arrived!" Lily declared, swept up in the moment.

Her best friend slid down to the edge of her own bed to sit opposite. "What are we talking about?"

"Our future after graduation," Pandora explained with a tone of finality, as if her efficiency eliminating any need of further elaboration.

Marlene, however, brought with her one last surprise of the day. "Not gonna be a professional Chaser guys, at least not right off the bat."

"What happened?" Lily gasped, all sorts of outrageous scenario popping into her head. Not least of all the possibility that her best friend's uninhibited bedroom antics might have gotten her into trouble.

But the real reason was far heavier than she had prepared herself for. "Shits happening out there... and I'm not going to sit on my ass and pursue my dreams like this all don't matter. I'm preparing for war."

Talk of this nature amongst Gryffindors was not foreign to Lily, but suddenly it all felt so real and tangible. No longer just an indistinct fantasy upon a clouded horizon. "Are… are you doing this… straight away?"

"The moment I graduate, yeah." Marlene smirked. "There's this… secret army being formed to combat You Know Who and his army of nutters. And turns out ol' Jamie-boy's contact came through for us." Then she turned her eyes, burning with excitement upon her wide-eyed friend. "That invite's open to you, too Lil's. I remember you saying you wanted to fight."

"I wanted to do something," Lily breathed, feeling another tickle of excitement and fear within her was all becoming too real.

"Well then come along," Marlene urged, her blue eyes afire with unfettered excitement. "We're gonna kick some bad guy ass!"

"I can hardly wait!" Lily grinned, excitement building. The terrible happenings these past few months felt heavy upon her soul. She felt so helpless at every morsel of news, at ever loss whispered in the halls. Why was this all happening? How could such awful people exist? It was all she could do to listen, unable to do a thing to stop it all.

But this… this was the opportunity she had wished for. To take to the war directly, fight this evil with every fibre of her being. To no longer sit on the sidelines and lament for every loss this travesty of a war brought.

But would Severus come with her? Her imagination brought up fantastical images of standing side by side with him in the heat of battle, striking down evil-doers like heroes in stories of old. But slowly her fantasies unravelled, as reason whispered in her ear. She hadn't married a Gryffindor, Sev would never choose to fight upon the front lines.

Perhaps he would never choose to fight at all, they had never spoken about such things. He'd never shared his opinions of this matter once, seemingly taking to the depressing news floating about the hallways with silent indifference.

With a frown, Lily worried her lips, feeling the rush of excitement bleed out of her.

* * *

It was his birthday. A reminder he did not desire, not even from the woman he loved. Perhaps especially not from her.

"Another year older, Sev! Growing into your mentality!" she harped as they walked from Defence Class, headed towards the library. Snape tried his best to temper his glower as they descended the Grand Staircase. A day dedicated to delightful reminders of his age. Just brilliant.

"So remind me. Why are we going to the library again?" Lily asked after a stretch of silence.

"Homework," Snape answered mutedly, already knowing where this was going.

A giggle sounded at his side before light hands shoved him playfully, making him thankful they had just turned off the stairs at the first floor landing. "We only have a short fifteen minute break before you head off to Arithmancy, and you feel like starting on homework given today?"

Honestly, Snape had, but he felt like admitting so in any way except ironically would set Lily off in another bout of titters. Not that her laughter was a bad thing, but today of all days he was feeling especially sensitive about her judgement. Because officially he had turned eighteen, while Lily would stay seventeen for a month longer. An insignificant age gap to anybody else, but to Snape it was mocking the true years that lay between them.

"Can I make a suggestion?" Asked Lily suddenly, with a gleam in her eye. Without waiting for an answer, she took his hand and stepped backwards through the wall.

Their secret alcove, Snape realised as he followed with very little resistance. The chill of this winter's day was quickly forgotten as memories of their last encounter there made themselves so very known. Even more so when Lily reached up to press her lips to his, a salacious kiss that spoke too poignantly of how different their relationship had become. He felt his hands wander, an almost involuntary reaction, until his mind caught up to his body and reigned himself in.

"Hmm, bad mood?" she asked softly, her breath tickling his.

"If this isn't enough time for homework then this isn't enough time for anything else." He muttered, trying to shake off the embrace.

Her lips quirked upwards. "I was just here for a snog. I don't know what you were expecting," she giggled, drawing up to his ear to whisper salaciously. "But since it's your birthday… how about after Potions tonight?"

Certainly nothing of that sort now that he was reminded of his age again. "Umm…" but he failed to gather the wits her all too suggestive words had scattered.

"But certainly not here," Lily whispered in sudden hush as someone walked past their hidden entrance, "I don't know how many know of this place but I certainly don't fancy the risk of being caught out. Can you imagine? The Head Girl and Head Boy…" If she were actually horrified by the thought, her grin did not seem to support her claims.

But that reminder of their duties to the rules cleared the fog within Snape's mind. "I should think we shouldn't court such risk at all. School rules are put in place for a reason, Lily," Snape muttered in a low voice, hating the disappointment that squirmed in his gut. _Idiot teenaged hormones._

"It's no risk," Lily continued to insist. "I have it on good authority that there is a room great for when you need privacy. And if you're worried about… the other issue, no problems. Madam Pomfrey is very good about the whole thing, I hear. She'll administer the potion, no questions asked."

They couldn't afford any more potions. That had been Snape's excuse to avoid further amorous encounters past their consummation. Lily had been exceedingly understanding of her sudden situation of poverty and had seemingly accepted chaste restrictions of affection.

The indelible truth was, she was still a school-aged girl, and he was, at least mentally, a thirty-eight year old Professor-turned-reluctant-headmaster. And despite knowing this keenly, he could barely manage to wrest his lust under control, his morality waging total war with his damnable hormones. He had resolved to wait until the final hurdle of their school year had passed before making any more passes over that moral abyss, but it seemed that Lily was not intent on making things easy for him.

After a momentary struggle, his weary determination finally won out. "Just because we can, doesn't mean we should." A sentiment that applied equally to himself.

An unreadable expression flickered across her face, doubt, he thought, perhaps disappointment. But perhaps that was his own hopeful wishes. It still didn't make sense to him that she would find him attractive in that way. Yet here she was, prepositioning him, as it had always been since their first night together. Thankfully too, because Snape hadn't found the confidence, or the shamelessness, to make any such suggestive advances throughout their entire honeymoon period-equivalent.

Laying her fingers flat against his chest, Lily leaned up to lay one chaste kiss upon his lips. "Such a law-abiding citizen," she murmured against his lips. "My powers of Gryffindor corruption have no effect on you."

Snape's lips twitched in a mirroring motion. "Oh it's having an effect. I simply possess the strength of will to resisting your wicked influence." This odd back and forth he had with her, these teasing words he's never had course to utter, locked in an embrace, with the only woman who would ever choose him. How odd that this was his life now. Happiness he's not found in thirty eight years of life, achieved in second attempt of an eighteenth year. If only he could have gotten this right on his first try…

"You still haven't told me what you wanted for your birthday," Lily whispered, her lips ticking against his own.

"I have everything I want. Why would I have need for anything more?" he muttered, feeling his cheeks colour at the cloying layer of sentimentality to what he had just uttered.

She drew back, eyebrows drawn upwards in cheek-filled surprise. "My oh my. How things change. Is this the sparkle of romanticism I hear from you?"

"Surely this is a sign of the end to come," Snape replied dryly, enjoying Lily's snort of amusement.

As her giggles dried up, a sheepishness fell over her. She paused chewing on her lip, causing Snape to feel there was more to today's playfulness than just innocent frivolity. "What is it?" he murmured, bringing his fingers through her silken hair. It was hard to believe he could ever be touching anybody so casually, or that he'd be allowed to.

"I wanted to ask you for something too… was hoping to put you in a good mood before trying," she muttered with a wincing smile, like she had just been caught out doing something she shouldn't and all she could offer was cheek and humour.

"How very Slytherin of your conduct," he remarked with a lift of his thin eyebrow.

Her fingers found their way into his thick strands, brushing through them in a gentle motion. "I was wondering… after graduation. What are your plans?"

"I'll find work," Snape promised immediately. "I won't allow us to languish too long in destitution. Do not fear badly for our future." The first job was always the hardest to find, even for the scores he was expected to produce in NEWTs. He had no reputation in the real world, and though he knew how capable he was, his demeanour would never allow him to convey it in an interview unless with a Legilimens.

With a relenting smile, Lily laid a hand upon his chest. "I know, I wasn't worried about that, silly. I was fortunate enough to have snapped up the most brilliant boy in school." Her smile waned then, her brows pinched as if she feared to speak the worries upon her mind. "Severus…" she began, a waver in her voice that set many of his unspoken fears aflutter. "Bad things are happening out there… bad people are hurting innocents. A war is coming… but there are people willing to stand up to all that."

A chill touched Snape's soul, dread clawing up his throat. He knew which direction this conversation was taking, he knew what her motives would be. "Do not concern yourself with that, Lily," Snape replied, a little too sharply. He knew his mistake the moment those uncensored words left his lips.

The effect was instant. "What do you mean, don't concern myself? It's my war Sev! Those are my people they are marching against! My friends they are hurting!"

"It is not your war to fight." He couldn't temper his tone, his emotions spinning suddenly and sharply away from him. "The world is moving against them, there are those already gathering to take up arms. They do not need you."

Her eyes widened in outrage, green eyes seeming to colour with outrage. "Not my fight? I. Am. Muggle-born! How is this _not_ my fight? This is more my fight than it is than it is James' or Marlene's, or even Sirius, and they are all fighting this war! How could I simply stand aside and accept that they are willing to risk life and limb for my world if I do nothing?"

"Life and limb, Lily," Snape hissed. "Because life and limb. This is not some fairy story where the heroes are dashing and invincible, triumph would always find those that try. This is the real world, where the good rarely survives unscathed! I will not have you risk it."

" _You_ do not get to tell me what I can and can't do with my life!"

In a rush of cold and hot, a surge of panicked heat dashed across Snape's skin. "I am your husband and I will damned well try. Don't you _dare_ do this!" Words evoked by reckless emotion, and words he knew immediately were the exact ones he should not have uttered.

Her mouth hung agape. Silence drew between them, before words uttered through clenched teeth shattered any illusion of a reasonable de-escalation. "How dare you…"

But any notion of diplomacy was dashed away by the frustration that boiled beneath his skin. She did not understand that war was not some fun little adventure for Gryffindors to play at heroics. That not every risk taken reaps reward, nor every sacrifice meaningful, nor every good repaid with triumph. That she would risk everything he lived for.

"I promise you this," Snape whispered into the deathly hush. "I will not live long past you." _Not this time…_

Her eyes widened, shock coloured those green eyes, then quickly veiled with furious tears. "I… You…!" Her jaws moved but no she could not push rebuking words through her mounting horror. "You can't…" she fumbled, her voice cracking with aghast. "You can't hang that on me. You can't…"

Snape's black eyes met hers, unwavering. "Then do not die."

A strangled cry of frustration brooked Lily's lips, wiping those tears furiously from her eyes. "To even suggest such a… making me responsible for… that…" She faltered, her voice strangled with her sobs. "You're a coward, Severus Snape. A coward!" And with a sobbing huff, she stormed past him, nearly shouldering him aside as he made a flimsy attempt to block her path, straight through the wall and startling a trio of passing Hufflepuffs.

Snape stood in the darkened gloom and the silence that settled, flailing with the sense of helplessness that threatened to strangle him. Why could she not see reason? Why must she push so hard towards danger? Like mother, like son it seemed. Gryffindor bravado pushing them towards the most direct and most ineffective path of conflict available. Contrary bloody Gryffindors…

And damned his stake in all this. Damned the fact he would be left alone once again should her recklessness drive her into another early grave. Had she known the truth of what devastation she would wrought onto him… if she should be made to realise exactly what future she would be facing.

But that came with another set of risks, a whole other pot of worry and guilt to wallow over.

Damned if he did, damned if he didn't.

* * *

A/N: Snape's dealt with this sort of reckless Gryffindorness before. Like mother like son, right Snape?

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 20th October 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 45: Drawing Parallels**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	45. Drawing Parallels

**Chapter 45: Drawing Parallel** s

Lily found Severus in the potion labs that Tuesday morning, going through the preparation motions of the Wolfsbane. Though her ring had told her he'd be there, she didn't know why she doubted it, as if she thought he'd hide away from her like a child. Instead he was there, absorbed in calm focus as he tended his preparations. At the very least she found a little relief at the illusion of seeming normality.

Like a tumultuous argument hadn't passed between them without any words since to rectify the situation.

Lily felt a prat. She realised the moment her head cooled half way up her climb to Gryffindor tower that she had acted like a prat. She could have said something to him during Potions but chose to set her jaw and ignore his presence instead. She gave traction to the childish part of her again, the part that was always at odds with her father; that demanded to be given her freedom to choose her path in life. But as time passed, her anger settled and gave way, her adult reason shone forth, the one that reminded her that her actions are not without consequence, and rarely do those consequences affect only her.

It wasn't that she didn't know she could possibly die. People died in war. That was fact one, day one. And it wasn't that she didn't know Severus would be devastated. He loved her, and she knew how much losing a loved one hurts.

She just expected him to understand…

"Hey," she muttered, wincing as her voice caught.

His dark eyes glanced upwards, but his hands did not stop moving. Swift strokes of his silver knife bisected the aconite flowers from their stems, strokes of the blade parting out masterfully those tricky veins.

Lily tried again with a subtle clearing of her throat, "I thought it was my turn to brew today."

His black eyes met hers again, but words did not follow immediately. His hands kept working, the clinking of the mortar and pestle breaking the otherwise stifling silence. He blinked and glanced back to his work as he scraped the paste into his little ceramic jars, working his jaws free when their eyes left each other. "I had thought to spare you from my presence today. I would have had to hover while you brewed."

Her heart clenched. This wasn't what she wanted him to take from their clash. She wasn't still angry with him. She just wanted him to understand… "The world is bigger than the both of us."

She saw his hand falter over the stroke of his whisk, the frothing rancid fats settling quickly in that moment's lack of stimuli. With a grimace he returned to the motion, beating it with far more vigour, but distracted technique faltering not in efficiency.

"Sorry," she muttered, voice dropping to barely above a whisper, "I didn't mean to… rehash our argument. I just wanted you to know… why. Why it's so important to me."

"I know why," he murmured, slowing down his whisking strokes to add a dash more salt. "How could I not know? You are a Gryffindor. The prospect of heroics draws you in like a siren's call."

"That's not why!" She felt the strangling grasp of frustration but forced it down with sheer will. "Can I ask for a moment that you try, just try to remember that I was born a muggle? That I have family, a sister, out there that is a muggle. That I have neighbours, and childhood friends, and so many people I don't know but have seen in passing that are muggles. Perhaps, I don't want them to get hurt by evil beliefs within the magical world, things they don't even know about?"

But Sev remained unmoved. He did not even raise his eyes as he replied, "It is not your fight."

"Then whose fight is it, Sev?" she snapped too heatedly. He winced, almost as if he could sense another repeat of yesterday brewing before him. His head dipped as he turned away, concentrating on packing the rancid butter over his minced aconite roots.

Lily didn't want to fight either, not while he stood here and brewed this complex monstrosity for a boy he didn't even like. Not while she was reminded of all the good Severus was willing to do, simply because she asked.

But it seemed the lengths he would go to would have a limit, and that limit was the real physical danger of war.

"You don't have to go to war with me," Lily murmured, "just keep your head down and pursue your career. But don't expect me to do the same, not with what's happening."

Silence reasserted itself, colouring each second that passed. With a clank, Severus heaved his cauldron of Aconite root stock onto the fire and set it brewing. In the moments that followed the slow heating of the cauldron, he finally lifted his eyes.

"Then I would like you to remember something," he whispered, his voice almost lost in the steady thrum of the humming burner. "I don't have a lot of good things in my life, Lily. I could probably name them all on the fingers of one hand. Almost all of them have to do with you." His black eyes fixed on her, holding her in place with its intensity. "What do you think you are risking, exactly, when you risk your life so carelessly? Did you think so little of my peace of mind?"

 _Of course not._ She ground her teeth, tears threatening as was her temper. "This is bigger than either of us, Sev. Everyone who fights stands to risk something."

"It doesn't need to be you."

"Am I to just close my eyes and ignore what's happening?" her voice shrilled. This talk was spiralling into an argument again. But Severus didn't answer. Instead pushing his stirring rod into the cauldron and coaxing the brew with his careful clockwise strokes.

"If you pursue this course, you leave me with nothing, Lily. Not even peace of mind," he murmured through gritted teeth as he added the horsehair and shredded turmeric. "I know that you feel a part of this all, and thus an obligation to serve it. However, know that you are only a small part in this looming war, but to me, you are my entire world."

Guilt clenched Lily's heart, lifting the anger from her tears. Severus only had her. His mother left for greener pastures, and his father was a drunken lout. He only had her…

The cauldron bubbled slowly, finding its way back to the boil as Severus stood hunched over it silently. It would be so easy to give him the reassurance he craved, to promise him she'd not risk herself for any cause, for his sake. To put his fears to rest, silence those recurring nightmares that haunted his sleep. He feared her death so keenly that he would hold his head and weep in darkened solitude. How could she forget how terribly those fears clung to his heart?

"I know, Sev… I know…" she murmured as she wrung her hands, tears still falling. "I don't want to talk about this anymore. Can we just pretend I never said anything?"

His black eyes were on hers again, his thin lips curled over his teeth in semblance of a scowl. "Promise me," he demanded, his brows pinched the bridge of his nose, but any resemblance to anger, fled in the wake of the desperation in his black pleading eyes. "Promise me."

With a hiccup, Lily committed, "I promise. I won't risk myself recklessly or put myself in unnecessary danger."

But that war would go on, and terrible things would continue. Even if she were to lay his fears to rest now, to promise him and mean it, she could not guarantee she would feel the same way on the other side of these walls. When the true magnitude of the horrors was hers to see, would she be able to find it in herself to hold back, for his sake?

His dark eyes returned to his cauldron, as if ensnarled by his reflection shining off that pool of orange. Lily's heart thudded dully in her chest, feeling every inch defeated. "Say something why don't you?" she urged, unable to take the silence any longer.

With a slow nod, he complied, unscrewing the cap from his ceramic jar, "I am grateful, Lily. You put my heart to ease."

* * *

"I thought so; it was your doing after all," Snape muttered over his steaming cup of suspiciously fragrant tea. "I spent a week stressing over how my actions might have brought about unintended consequences in this timeline, when all along this disparity was down to your meddling."

"Meddling, Severus?" Dumbledore's tone was light as he took a sip from his tea, not in the least put off by that whiff of floral sweetness. With a testing sip, Severus gave his tea the benefit of the doubt, and found the brew far more to his taste than he first feared. It seemed Dumbledore was finally learning his palate. "Do you not approve of preventing the demise of the Prouds?" the headmaster continued with a gentle frown.

Snape wasn't trying to antagonise the man, but he recognised how his nonchalance might be interpreted. "Perhaps I was mistaken, but I was placed under the impression that we were allowing things to run their natural course for as long as possible. After all, once we avert the course of the future, all bets are off as to how things might proceed."

With a grim nod, Dumbledore agreed, "We have an entire two years of relative peace left, do we not? No outward aggressions from Voldemort, only disappearances and minor 'incidents.' The death of the Prouds would have been nothing more than a minor footnote in history."

"Yet you go out to do this," Snape drew out a borrowed copy of the daily prophet and laid it upon Dumbledore's desk. Upon the headlines was blazed, **HEADMASTER OR AUROR?** "A duel with Daniel Avery before the Proud Household? Having the man sent to Azkaban after forcing a confession from him with Veritaserum? What part of any of your actions do you think constituted as allowing things to run their natural course?"

It must have felt strange to the headmaster to be scolded by his student, but not a shred of contrition touched his expression. Instead amusement ringed the ancient man's lively eyes, "I appreciate your concerns, Severus. You are right, my actions would be the sort that invites reaction. I cannot imagine Tom to benignly shrug at my intervention. Perhaps it will cause rippling effects on the future to come?"

"Why?" Snape hissed, "I thought we agreed? I thought we were using the future to our advantage to win this war? I thought for lives that we knew would have to be sacrificed, that we would do so."

"For the greater good?" Those blue eyes fixed him with a hard stare, causing Snape to scowl at the connotations implied.

"Don't get all haughty at me over your righteous motto. You were not nearly as reluctant to sacrifice a student when it mattered, dare I say, eager even."

The headmaster blinked slowly and turned away. As if sensing the tension, Fawkes stretched down from his perch to peer curiously at his friend, favouring him with a sonorous chirp. Dumbledore raised his hand to brush the length of the bird's red feathered neck, reassuring the grand creature. "I cannot speak for the Albus Dumbledore you knew, Severus, but I can assure you that I at least do not relish in the prospect of finding my students counted among war dead."

Snape frowned, disbelief clawing up his throat, "So deferred guilt is what motivated your reckless actions? To save the life of a student who scores as only as mediocre at best?"

"If I didn't know any better I would have thought that you had adopted that philosophy." His tone was light, but his blue eyes peered intently.

"You have no right to lecture me on that," Snape spat, "until the end you took to that philosophy. Don't pretend you have divorced yourself of that school of thought."

A rueful smile touched the old man's bushy beard before his teacup raised to conceal it. After a slow ponderous sip, Dumbledore finally spoke, "I had been thinking on that, Severus Snape, and if it is all as you say, I believe you are right. War must have changed me for the worse." He took another sip, letting the silence that followed his words stretch on, a strange frown touching his bushy brows. "But if that was the case, for the life of me I cannot fathom why I should insist the boy to meet his end at the hands of Tom, when it would have been easier to request that he impale himself upon Gryffindor's sword. Or that you might carry out the atrocity, even."

Snape's eyes narrowed, setting his teacup and saucer carefully back onto the table lest his suddenly tense hands might fumble the chinaware. Dumbledore continued, expression still light despite the heavy words he had just uttered. "I suppose the other me might have known something I did not about the nature of Horcruxes, but then it would be rather silly not to gift it back to me when he had so convenient a channel to do so."

"Unbelievable, are you honestly trying to dodge your responsibility of guilt? Finding an alternative meaning to actions you find distasteful?" Snape snarled, incensed by the sheer gall of it.

With a small but visible sigh, Dumbledore set his teacup down and folded his hands patiently before him. "Perhaps you are right, Severus. Perhaps it is all as you say. But it is the right of every man to hope. And I choose to hope I was able to be the better man, and not sacrifice a life merely because it was blocking my path to victory." Dumbledore stood then, drawing himself to his full imposing height. He reached out to touch his fingers to his phoenix' crest, stroking the phoenix' fiery plumage with gentle familiarity, his heavy brows pitched together in a heavy frown.

"So hope can absolve you of guilt?" Snape muttered, turning his scowling eyes to his cooling tea.

He felt rather than saw those blue eyes glanced towards him, that too sharp an understanding from nearly a century's worth of experience. "Hope for the future, not wallowing in a past that cannot be changed. I am a better man than I was when I first thought to align myself with that arrogant dictum and I choose to believe I can be a better man still. You too, Severus, are a better man than you once were, and you too will be a better man should you choose."

A derisive scoff passed Snape's lips. "Has this honestly suddenly become about me?"

"Did you not see a familiarity in our conversation?" A smile touched Dumbledore's lips as he excused himself in a light timbre. "Then I apologise, I had thought from the tone of your voice you might have been taking talk of such dubious nature rather personally."

"It was a waste of my life. Seventeen years spent on keeping that ungrateful brat alive, only for you to tell me it was all for naught. That is why I took it personally." He had hated him, that boy who looked with Lily's eyes from the face of a man who made his life a living hell. Hated him with every fibre of his being. But even so, Snape carried on dutifully. Purpose for a life that had long lost all meaning.

Snape glanced up with his glowering eyes, challenging those blue ones to say something else assumptive and nettlesome. But rather, Dumbledore simply smiled down at him, his fingers still ruffling the crimson feathers of his calmly preening bird. "Purpose is indeed important to every man's life. I apologise if it felt as if I was taking it away, and so too shall I express my admiration that your duty extends beyond yourself so. That you would willingly forgo your own purpose, for the greater good."

Black eyes narrowed, Snape felt keenly that he was being mocked, but try as he might he could not see through Dumbledore's smile for anything other than genuineness. "But if I may make a suggestion, Severus." Here it is, the stinging nettle hidden in the bouquet. "Perhaps there is wisdom in relinquishing of purpose, for life cannot be sustained on duty alone. Life cannot be lived if lived solely for others, void of peace." With one last stroke of his phoenix' crest, Dumbledore turned back to settle himself in his grand oak chair. "Happiness, Severus, is a duty to oneself."

"I am _happy,_ " Snape forced unconvincingly through gritted teeth, but he meant every word of it. He had more to live for than he ever had in two lifetimes.

With an enigmatic smile, Dumbledore chirped, "Oh indeed, I had forgotten. You have had more than a little more purpose in this lifetime. I must congratulate you on your recent nuptials."

"Hasn't scuttlebutt been active," Snape muttered scathingly.

"Oh I hadn't heard it in Hogwarts. Rather, a friend of mine in the ministry sent an owl to express a most astonishing thing. That two of my students had registered as husband and wife over the Christmas break. Since I only know of two such engaged young couples I only inferred. Excuse me if I am incorrect in my assumption."

His scowl relented as, he confirmed it. "Lily and I married two days before New Year's Eve. You would be correct if you inferred she is my purpose."

"Not purpose, Severus." Dumbledore's blue eyes sparkled. "Love should always be more than just purpose. Love, is peace."

* * *

"Ooooh Lily." Susan's teasingly singsong voice floated over the low-level ruckus of the common room. "I heard a most scintillating story from my aunt. She works in record keeping in the Ministry, and she gave me the most interesting titbit."

The exasperated girl could not help the eye roll, matching sentiments with the grimacing Mary, and likely Pandora seeing how quickly the girl ducked again behind her tome, but Mary lifted her eyes and asked poignantly, "Is a ministry record keeper really supposed to be so lax about privacy?"

The gossipy girl quickly flustered, "Well she doesn't really give me any specific details. Never said names or nothing. Like I keep asking about Sebastian but she just keeps telling me no records of him exist. Just doesn't want to give me details I'll bet since the Urquart family is pretty much affiliated with the Ministry of Magical Law Enforcement." Lily was pretty sure this could constitute as stalking.

If Susan got a sense that her prying was meeting with naught but disapproval, it did not stop her from ploughing on regardless. "My aunt only said that two ungraduated Hogwarts students had just got married. Know anything about that?"

Well that's just typical. And when this chatterbox knows something, the entire school was soon to follow. Not that this was anything to be ashamed of. No, she was happy with Severus. Why should she be ashamed of anything?

But before Lily could be given the satisfaction of confirming this without a shred of abashment, Marlene appeared, with James at her hip, to steal her thunder. "Well yeah, who else in this school had been engaged?"

Susan gasped in her overly scandalised way. "It really is you?" she asked needlessly.

"Yeah, married on the twenty-ninth of December in a chapel up in Banchory. What of it?" She winced at how defensive she sounded.

Susan didn't disappoint, a gasp issued forth from her maw, long and aghast, yet her eyes were sparkling with the prospect of intrigue. "You actually married him?"

"That's what I said," Lily replied unamused.

Marlene shot her an apologetic grimace as James offered an awkward smile likely intended to look sincere. "Congratulations, Lily. First of us to get shackled down."

"Thank you, James. I'm happy with how things turned out. It's far less an obligation as you make it sound." Lily returned his smile with far more feeling. It was hard to forget in this moment that James had had a crush on her, infatuation even. But he professed he was happy with Marlene, and she could only believe it to be so.

With a nod and a sweep of a hand through his ruffled hair, James conceded with a grimace. "Hard to believe from the onset, but yeah, he seems like a swell guy."

Marlene stepped forward and braced a firm hand on her shoulder. "You tell me if he treats you with anything but utmost respect okay? I'll sort him out."

"We'll all sort him out," Mary agreed as she leaned forward to lay her hand upon that of her newly-wed friend.

A grateful smile touched Lily's lips, before she had the sudden childish urge to spill on the arguments that recently transpired between the two of them. Thankfully she stopped herself before her lips could even form the words. She didn't need to air out their dirty laundry, especially not in front of Susan. And honestly, she was beginning to come around to sense.

After Hogwarts she would be far too busy just fighting to survive. With no place to live and the meagre proceeds from the sale of her house minus the mortgage, her head would ache each time she turned her thoughts in the direction of the future. How in Merlin's name would she also have time to run about fighting dark wizards?

It seemed having a cause was for those with stable lives.

"Thanks guys but you needn't worry. He's been an absolute gentleman," Lily remarked with a dismissive wave of her hand.

Mary sat back in her chair with eyebrows raised. "Well there are some instances where you would rather they not be such gentlemen."

"Oh god." Lily buried her face, unable to stop the burn of red that immediately garnished her ears.

Even Marlene coloured, while James paled a blanched white. "Urgh Merlin's beard, Mary!" the blond girl lamented with a shudder of distaste. "None of us need that mental image."

"What's wrong?" Susan frowned, the connotations skipping straight over her head.

"Now I'm just saying, he needs to let loose if he's going to be any use in the bedroom," Mary continued relentlessly to Susan's gagging aghast. "Tell him what needs to be done. Don't be shy."

"Right. Thanks. But I'm fine," Lily muttered into her hands, she felt so mortified she could burst into flames any second.

"Now, _fine_ just doesn't cut it, honey," Mary tutted, not even the least bit shy about uttering such things aloud.

"Can we stop talking about this, _here_?" Lily almost forced the words out from between gritted teeth. She could see more than a few uninvolved persons turning scandalised eyes upon them. Marlene looked on with mild but obvious disgust while James had wisely chosen to excuse himself from the conversation and shuffled silently back to where his friends sat huddled.

"Wait… did you actually… do it with him?" Marlene asked, a question baffling as it is inappropriate.

Almost thankfully, Mary was the one to respond. "Come on, seriously? They're married."

"Yeah but…" Marlene just can't seem to get the concept about her head, while Susan dissolved into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

With a deeply disturbed sigh, Lily stood from her seat. "Right, I think it's high time I got ready for patrol."

"Patrolling with Seeevyy are you, Mrs Snape?" Susan giggled obnoxiously.

"Different Slytherin, actually," Lily muttered, gathering up her sash. There was at least another ten minutes before she had to leave but she really couldn't find it in herself to endure the conversation any longer. Individually her friends are great, but together they can become something altogether entirely mortifying.

She fled the room before discussions could fully begin over the matter, almost welcoming the blast of freezing air that whooshed through the portrait hole, willing the flustered warmth to fade.

She could not claim to be innocent of such thoughts about her first night as a young wife, the nerve that fluttered about her stomach, the anticipation as Sev's fingers slid down her form, unclasping her dress, feeling his hot breath on her collarbone. That fleeting concern when he drew back, his black eyes meeting hers, so painfully hesitant.

" _Are you certain you want this?"_

And all she whispered in answer was a spell to loosen the complicated bindings of his dress robes.

She strode quickly as if trying to outrun the memory and the flush that followed. There was reason she wanted to avoid the topic. She could barely brush past the memory without wearing her lascivious thoughts upon her sleeves. It didn't take a Legilimens to deduce the root of her fluster.

Slowing to a casual stroll, Lily took a moment to shake off her mostly-internal turmoil and compose herself. Thankfully, she was not needed anywhere in a hurry, giving her time to tame the redness from her cheeks and reapply her Head Girl persona. Her calming ease in direct contrast to the straggling students who scurried quickly for their respective dorms. One such Gryffindor boy froze on the sight of her marching down in the opposite direction, immediately taking note of her glowing sash with a dawning look of horror.

"Curfew's not up yet but you better hurry along," Lily informed him with a smile, sending him darting up the stairs with a grateful wave.

Mostly composed, she arrived in comfortable time to the meeting point down in the Entrance Hall. But even so her arrival was several minutes early, she hadn't anticipated the wait for her patrol partner. Evan Rosier wasn't known for rocking up late, despite his recent reluctance to serve in any capacity but the bare bones minimal. But even as he strolled up from his dungeon corridor, twenty minutes later than the dictated meeting point, he was most unapologetic. His full lips were turned in pout as if he only begrudgingly did this as a favour for a most ungrateful world.

"About time you showed," Lily snapped as she rubbed her hands together. Waiting was a frigid exercise at this time of year. She had caved in at one point and messed about with the heating charm Sev had taught her but had concluded she'd rather freeze.

Rosier turned a heavily lidded eye upon her as if she were a cockroach scuttling over his shoe. "I suppose it was you who sent Snape to harass me."

She had sent her Patronus down to ask Severus of Rosier's welfare, genuinely believing something might have happened. That it turned out he had decided to not bother fuelled her righteous fury of having been left waiting out in the cold. "Well it is your bloody turn, or had you thought patrols became magically a thing of the past?"

"Let's just get this over with," Rosier muttered without ever bothering to regard her with eye contact as she spoke, having already turned his attention away, striding purposefully towards the hallway for the first leg of their evening.

Lily jogged to catch up, his long strides forcing her into an uncomfortable pace. "Hold up, we're patrolling!" Lily barked as they rushed past the first door. Scouring the classrooms for signs of life were part of their job.

"Then you do it. You have eyes," Rosier snapped, not even bothering to stop and wait for her to do so.

Without a word, Lily flicked out her wand, directing a silent Impediment Jinx at Rosier's back, hindering him to almost a standstill. His expression slowly morphed from surprise to rage as he turned to face her, impossibly slowly. Then just as suddenly, the jinx wore off, and he stumbled into the wall as Lily casually closed the door to the room she had just swept. "You can do the next one." She snipped with an arched brow as she marched past, indicating the door by Rosier's elbow.

His eyes were on her, narrowed into slits. Rage not worn plainly upon his face, but obvious from the heat of his glare. Lily did not stow away her wand. Fear suddenly nipped at her mind, warning her that she might need to defend herself quickly, and as proficient as she was with wandless casting, she was still wobbly at best casting wordlessly. She would be too slow to duel with the likes of Evan Rosier.

It was almost vindicating relief when Rosier turned to the door he was assigned and opened it as instructed and scanned about with borderline agitation.

"Happy?" he snarled as he slammed the door shut and swept away. He would not raise his eyes from the ground, and as Lily hurried her steps to keep up she was beginning to believe that wasn't owing to the shame of caving to her demands. Combined with his hurried strides, and tense shoulders, and how jittery every glance he cast about was, he seemed genuinely scared about something.

How very peculiar.

"You alright there, Rosier?" Lily enquired, out of genuine concern she was certain, at least at first.

She felt far less charitable when that unrepentant Slytherin boy snapped back, "Don't talk to me."

"Oh believe me, you're not as desirable a conversationalist as you might think you are. Had it been my choice I would prefer we return to our routine of silence but unfortunately for the both of us your jittering prickles is disrupting our duties. So I ask again, what in Merlin's name is wrong?"

The heavily lidded eyes of Evan Rosier turned to her, even in the darkness she could see the intense vitriol behind that gaze. "Perhaps it is simply down to the obvious? That I do not wish to spend my evening patrolling with the likes of a _Mudblood_." He spat the world with such vehemence that Lily was left momentarily speechless.

When she was finally able to gather her wits again, the Slytherin Prefect already took off, half way down the hallway, slamming doors in his wake.

* * *

"Utterly rude! Just horrid!" Lily complained hotly to her gathering of friends and one most reluctant husband. From said husband's perspective, Marlene McKinnon was her only non-distasteful friend present there.

Snape hated these study sessions with Marauders, because they never stayed study sessions for long. Not to mention the disruption to all surrounding the table they chose to work at. It also didn't help that he also hated the Marauders with every fibre of his being.

"We might want to keep things down a little," Snape muttered, glancing about the study hall noting disapproving eyes glancing their way. Even if the Study Hall was mostly empty this late Saturday morning, it was certainly not the precedent the Head Boy and Girl should be setting.

With a frustrated wave over her shoulder, Lily set a silencing ward about them, which Snape supposed solved their main issue. How they would then be expected to keep order in the area, however, was another matter entirely.

"He actually called me a Mudblood! Can you believe that?" Lily continued to a sharp intake of breath of all purebloods present. Magical folk not of unsavoury mind always appeared to take great collective discomfort whenever that word got thrown about, almost like a shared guilt mentality.

"Did he really?" Snape asked, his brows raised in surprise.

Lily turned to her husband sitting beside her. "I know! The nerve of him!"

 _Yes. Nerve._ Snape's lips twisted in attempted sympathy, but his mind already turned away in another direction. Because the idea of Rosier acting with anything but the most impeccable of manners was something viscerally outlandish. "He actually said mudblood?"

"I'm game to start some shit with him," James offered with a vicious grin and a ruffle of his hair.

"Please don't. I'm just venting," Lily quickly reassured, genuinely worried, while Snape simply hoped his smouldering glare conveyed accurately his request for the boy to keep his Gryffindor sense of needless chivalry set upon his own girlfriend.

Black returned the grin. "If we don't do anything these Slytherins might start thinking they can run the place. We can't have that."

"The Slytherins are my domain," Snape snarled across the table, eyes narrowed challengingly on those infuriatingly self-righteous Gryffindors.

"We'll leave it to you then," Potter quickly conceded, defusing the conflict that was brewing. To which Black's grinning lips curled back to show his pearly white teeth in a threatening display befitting his bestial persona.

Lily poked him gently in the side, causing the scowl to fall from his face. "That would be a bit too macho of you. I don't expect you to defend my honour."

Snape grimaced, that hadn't been the thought on mind. "I simply had not expected him to... treat you as such."

"Hello, Severus? He's one of the bad'uns," Marlene chipped in, her textbook not even open before her. Her dedication to not giving an academic damn was almost impressive.

"But it's not in his nature to be coarse." He didn't know why he was trying to explain himself. Gryffindors lacked the mental capacity to grasp how a minute change in personality could scream volumes, a lesson the spymaster knew all too well.

Lily, however, always proved the exception of the bunch. "Now that you mention it, I thought he was acting a bit funny too. He was all nervous as if he expected something to jump out at him from the darkness."

"I can see Slytherin cowardice hasn't died," Black muttered acidly with a shit-eating grin, no doubt with a person in mind. Snape's eyes narrowed in challenge.

"Is he afraid of patrolling at night?" Pettigrew asked with almost an air of empathy.

Lupin, however, shook his head. "I've patrolled with him several times. It's never been an issue."

 _It shouldn't be an issue._ Snape agreed privately; he would never go so far as to agree verbally with that flea-bitten wolf.

But before he could ponder this further, new visitors breached the sanctity of their silenced bubble. Susan and the McGonagall girl approached and sat at either end of Snape's side of the table, with the gossip choosing Lily's side and the far more tolerable McGonagall setting herself straight at his own.

"I was hoping for a moment of your time, Severus Snape," she stated without any preamble, and quite politely.

"What, after Lily's guy too?" Susan snipped quite uncharitably to the visible eye roll of both sensible girls.

"Urquart isn't even interested in you," Pandora McGonagall observed viciously in a pointedly polite tone. With a hiss and the narrowing of her eyes, Susan slammed her books down and disappeared behind one. Honestly, what was with Gryffindors and drama? Not even in his professorial years did Snape see half as many hissy fits from any other house.

With a dismissive smile, Pandora settled her attention back to the Slytherin boy sitting at this table overcrowded with Gryffindors and unfurled a length of scroll. "My dissertation on pioneering a one-handed enchanting technique," she declared, holding the unfurled sheath at too awkward an angle to read but seeming to nonetheless expect something of that equally socially awkward boy.

Snape frowned for a good solid moment before that girl finally reached over and slid his inkwell higher up the table to set her parchment safely before him, knocking his textbook, 'Alchemical Conundrums and Triumphs throughout the Ages' closed. This was one of the times Snape wished these people didn't assume he was a mind reader.

With barely the hint of a nod, Snape did as he was bade and turned his attention to the work, finding the girl's long sloping writing style very agreeable. He had suffered through enough chicken scratchings upon exam papers to properly appreciate well developed handwriting.

Beside him, the rest of the noisy collective of Gryffindors set back into throes of discussion of no particular academic nature, something he was more than happy to tune out. His eyes skimmed down the page, well-practiced from years of marking less than adequate homework attempts, taking in the concepts proposed quickly and singling out any mentions of technique and reasoning. And already this was ringing all sorts of alarm bells. Mainly to do with the subject matter.

Had this been an extra credit Charms thesis submitted to Flitwick by a seventh year, he would not doubt the little professor would be sweeping about the staffroom, boasting of the talent in his student to every ear he could find. It honestly baffled Snape just that little bit why his opinion was asked when Charms did not lie in the least within his realm of specialities. Certainly he was doing well in it, but as an academically gifted student that statement wasn't anything special. He had no special interest in the field save for spell-crafting interest, and even then it was only to compliment Jinx-crafting. In fact the only pioneering he had ever attempted purely in the field of Charmswork was only a simple alteration of the Silencing Charm, and even that had been far more taxing than any of his slew of jinxes and hexes had ever proven. And almost as deadly.

"I certainly hope you are only keeping this to theory," he muttered, not at all liking this talk of experimental Charms work.

"Oh no, I fully intend to pursue this course in full," McGonagall confessed without a single shred of thoughtful contrition.

"The first thing you should keep in mind about playing about with charms work is that it is a highly volatile subject," Snape spoke warningly to the attentive girl. "Flitwick often cautions us about the dangers of erroneously pronouncing a spell, or even the slightest alteration upon the casting wand's path, so forging your own path upon this field is a treacherous play."

The girl smiled brightly, seemingly completely unfazed by the dire warning. "Yet nothing ventured, nothing gained." _Gryffindors._

"There is a reason why there is a formed committee in the Ministry specifically for Experimental Charms. The same reason why I highly discourage any practical work in this subject. If you must blow yourself up, I request that you do it somewhere off school grounds so that the catastrophe you'd cause would not then become mine to deal with."

Snape felt a sharp elbow jab into his ribs, Lily's green eyes narrowed in annoyance. "Severus!" She chastised sharply, not appreciating at all the tone he was taking with her friend.

"Then you talk her out of her calamitous pursuit," Snape growled.

But Lily simply shrugged. "Oh come now, Sev. You've done far more dangerous magical meanderings before."

"That is not relevant to this discussion," he growled, eyes narrowing in annoyance.

The contrary girl raised a crimson eyebrow. "Your own lectures never apply to you huh?

"I knew what I was doing," He replied through gritted teeth. He was beginning to be genuinely convinced that the adage of Gryffindors and suicidal recklessness applied to every one of them without exception. "But from what I just read, you are trying to mimic my technique of persistent spell effects to minimise the need for juggling. But instead of the relatively safe path of Spell Weaving, you abandon it in its entirety to pursue the far more treacherous route of Charms Crafting!"

"Do you not understand why I have to?" the young McGonagall blinked, seeming genuinely surprised by the notion.

"Of course I do," Snape rounded back on her. "You cannot weave a charm with a charm. This field of spell casting is focused on applying a will upon an object to elicit a tailored compliance. To pair a charm to a charm is to spell work as pairing a verb to a verb is to the English language."

"Correct. Five points to Slytherin." The girl said without a hint of obviously intended humour upon her politely smiling face.

He felt on the verge of stripping Gryffindor of similar said points. Alas, student leader privileges came with their set of responsibilities.

"If you have nothing more constructive to say in regards to this…" McGonagall reclaimed her scroll and proceeded to reroll and bind it, her polite smile never leaving her lips.

This was all going to end in disaster if Snape allowed this to pass without having the last word. "If you must do this, then pursue it through legal routes. Petition Flitwick with your idea and get him on board, he would have techniques and means to keep you safe while pursuing this craft. He would also be able to help you put in an application with the Committee on Experimental Charms thus legalising your pursuits and insuring you for any damages and hospitalisations you might incur."

He scribed these instructions down on a length of his cheap parchment as he spoke, taking care in his own sinful handwriting. "As for your technique in of itself. While your understanding of lingual causality in spell work is commendable, you have only the barebones of wand work within your paper. I would suggest you mend that short sight if you do intend to pursue this course seriously. There was a textbook that assisted me greatly in my understanding of that topic. You can find it in the dangerous Charms section of the Restricted Section. Have Flitwick grant you permission."

With a tap of his wand, Snape dried the ink and proceeded to slice the length of parchment off from the spool with another quick swish.

"It's terribly decent of you," she responded quite promisingly as she accepted the hand-written instructions. "I shall allocate appropriate regards to your reasonable advice."

It was already more than Snape could hope for. He never knew when it came to students whether his suggestions were simply a waste of breath. With some luck this girl possessed a measure of her aunt's sensibilities and this wouldn't escalate to anything apocalyptic in scale, but ultimately it all came down to Gryffindor stubbornness measured against McGonagall good sense.

"Told you he was great," Lily interjected with a kiss upon his quickly reddening ears, to the visible disgust from Sirius Black. But James Potter barely flinched upon the sight of this spent affection, seemingly no longer touched by this notion. His own girlfriend tucked in the curl of his arm, seemingly heedless of the woman he was once willing to go to any lengths to have.

* * *

The Slytherin common room was in a lively state. Not unusual as in of itself, but the conventional activity among Slytherins consisted of scheming whispers and loud gloating on rotation, not this cheerful game of Gobstones between year groups set out quite obstructively in the centre of the room. For whatever reason Lester had thought to organise it, and to surprisingly positive reception as well. Gobstone wasn't known for being a popular game amongst the older year groups and anybody seen sporting an interest in it after the age of twelve was considered, quite rightfully, for ostracisation. Slytherin House must be going through vexing times indeed.

Lester had even managed to somehow convince Urquart to play. However, Snape turned down an invitation without a moment's consideration. That activity reminded him too much of his mother, of how she kept a Championship Gobstone set in her chest under lock and key and forbade him from ever touching it. That she would deny his childhood even that little taste of stimulation. How he detested the memory.

Instead Snape sat back into his corner, having been made to give up his fireplace seat for gaming space, and proceeded to glower through the bustle of bodies. He had spent and wasted a morning pursuing the alchemical arts, attempting to create a magical substance with no formula and the barest inkling of where to begin. It was all he could do to glower at the happy carefree faces about him, and he found his eyes drawn straight through to the opposite corner where sat Rosier, another who seemed to hold the game in similar regard as Snape had from the glower upon his face.

But Rosier did not glower, that simply wasn't something he did. Though Snape knew that boy's heart and mind was filled with less than happy thoughts, he was remarkably good at keeping it from his continence. To see him so visibly unhappy…

How had Snape missed this? This change within those peers he had resolved to keep an eye on. How long had this been going on?

Rosier silently sat in a carved chair in the opposite corner, facing an equally silent Avery. Neither boy seemed to even want to look at each other, staring off in two separate directions. A most forlorn scene in the midst of such untethered frivolity. Though Snape might just be calling the kettle dour by the striking comparison he must paint.

A great cheer erupted, causing both boys to glance momentarily towards the ruckus in the middle and Snape to avert his gaze subtly. Only an amateur would jerk their eyes away at the first touch of eye contact, an experienced spy like Snape knew to let his eyes simply lose focus. He knew how to watch without seeming to watch.

Without so much as a blink Snape's eyes adjusted to the Gobstones game, just in time to see Urquart's stone sink sending a great puff of fetid stink at his face. It seemed he was getting thoroughly trounced by a fourth year girl who held almost his entire collection of stones, and seemed remarkably fresh for someone who had played through two sets.

"Not losing to a girl are you Urquart?" Mulciber guffawed loudly, eliciting a round of nasty sniggers.

With a silent grimace, the boy in question leant down to focus his stone upon his opponent's cluster, only to have his shot fly wide and clip one of his own into the void. Another puff of stink shot his way to the roaring hilarity of onlookers. Even Lester relented a smirk at his friend's humiliating defeat, no amount of loyalty among friends could starve off schadenfreude amusement.

Urquart's opponent too gave a giggle at his expense, but then promptly winked eliciting a wry smile from his mortified glower. It seemed that a woman's flirtation is salve to that boy's pride, a chink in his armour. Since his return from voluntary exile, Sebastian Urquart's aloof but gentlemanly manner had proven himself extraordinarily popular with the female populace. However, rather than revel in his newfound popularity, this humdrum served to drive him further in search for privacy.

He seemed to wear the attention well a majority of the time, however on occasions things would seem a little too much for him and he'd head for refuge in the strictly enforced quiet of the library, or even a disused classroom. Even when he spent time in the common room, he'd choose a corner seat to limit the number of people who could join him. Once he had even asked Snape if he could borrow the password to the Prefect bathroom on account of the intolerably high number of girls that had been watching and giggling whenever he walked down to the showers. Naturally Snape refused, reasonable or not, them be the rules, but not that it'd matter considering the boy would always change in the privacy of the cubical. Self-esteem issues that came with being an outcast; Snape could sympathise.

Tonight, however, it seemed he was capitalising on his popularity. "I do not suppose I could convince you to be gentle on the finishing blow?" He beseeched shamelessly with a charming smile. To the failings of all that is good and just, the girl appeared to succumb with her own shot curving just shy of sinking another one of his stones, leaving him teetering on defeat but still hanging in the game.

A round of groans graced the fourth years backing the girl, as well as from the majority of the male populace that seemed to teem with jealousy whenever Urquart flaunted his popularity with the fairer sex. This too applied to Rosier it seemed, as Snape watched him stand and leave without a word, leaving Avery sitting alone, painting a very lonely picture amongst the bustle.

An opportunity perhaps.

Snape had often been accused of sneaking up on students, startling them out of their plans for mayhem and mischief. He walked naturally with a soft step but much of their surprise came down to their general lack of awareness. So too was Avery's it seemed, as the boy started in his seat when Snape dropped into the chair opposite.

"Good evening, Avery. I take it that you're enjoying the festivities?" Snape offered with a directing glance to the jeering crowd. The boy obviously wasn't, and Snape could not help that little barb of sarcasm in his voice to colour his words a mocking tone.

"S-Snape," the boy stuttered, squirming in his seat with wide-eyed surprise. "How have you been?" he asked in a breathless rush, before seeming to remember they wasn't supposed to be on good terms and promptly fell into a distressed silence.

With a feigned casual air, Snape leaned back in his armchair and sought the boy's eyes out. "How have your holidays fared?" he prodded, willing the boy to meet his eyes. "Family well?"

Avery's eyes flickered upwards then, a motion that halted just short of actual contact. "Th-they're very well. Thank you for asking," he muttered, staring adamantly away from the insistent eyes of the boy before him.

"I am certainly glad to hear so," Snape responded, knowing too well this wasn't the case in the least. "But I don't imagine anyone faring well in Azkaban."

Those elusive eyes jerked upwards, wide and round as they met Snape's black pits. That moment of unguarded surprise, unveiled a mind swirling with dark despair, and a boy clawing everything he could to keep from drowning. Avery blinked and quickly averted his gaze, fear plastered starkly across his face, but not before brown eyes flew to the surface of his mind. Brown eyes Snape had never wished to see again, staring from the serpentine face of the cruellest madman to have ever graced these magical halls.

Snape felt his heart race at the memories that came unbidden. Fear prickled Snape's skin. This wasn't supposed to happen yet. Avery had his first audience with the Dark Lord after graduation, alongside both Snape and Mulciber. But whereas Snape was dropped into the lowly ranks of the masses, the two purebloods wereinvited into the Inner Circle with open arms. How Snape had seethed with vile jealousy then, a memory that brought bile to Snape's throat.

With a desperate motion, he took the boy's arm and forced up the sleeve. No ghastly skull stared up at him, no vile tattoo adorned that expanse of pale skin. Avery snatched his hand back, shrinking away in wide-eyed desperation. "You saw," he muttered, "you saw…"

"And you know I'm a Legilimens," Snape growled, daring the boy to meet his eyes again.

"Regulus warned me…" Avery confessed, before he shrank back with another blanch of horror, realising he said too much.

Snape leaned forward, keeping his own tumultuous thoughts from his face. "Be very careful of where you have found yourself, Avery. You are treading in dangerous waters."

With eyes screwed tight, Avery shook his head, looking desperately terrified. "I know that. Don't you think I know that?" His wail was almost lost in the great hurrah that erupted from the boisterous room, drowning out much of his desperate sobs.

"Then stop," Snape beseeched, "You have yet to carry the mark. You have yet to leap into what you can never come back from. It is not too late for you."

The boy opened his eyes, meeting his briefly before turning away again, fearing the power of his gaze. He shook his head but said nothing, despair worn plainly for all to see. He turned his eyes upon the revelling fourth years, their girl having trounced her opponent and taking home victory.

"It's not too late to join us," Snape muttered, to the boy's fearful glance, but this time the spymaster was not speaking from knowledge gained through Legilimency. Pandering to a fear he knew the sting of all too well. "Your last days of school needn't be spent upon its fringes, Avery. This does not have any bearing on your place within these walls. I would not give your secrets away." This was the best he could do for a boy who teetered so close to the brink, made so uneasy by the path he was offered, yet so reluctant to turn away. Fear held him, as does the uncertainty of the future. "You were never made to be an outcast, Avery. Please think on my offer."

Wide eyes turned to him again, but this time he made no motion to push through. A gamble for trust weighed against his desire to know. But that moment passed before the boy made to answer, yells of alarm rang out as a great commotion kicked up in the crowd.

Snape stood as the flash of spell fire struck a ceiling brazier, sending sparks cascading down upon the panicking crowd. The victorious girl screamed and scrambled away as still-lit cinders fluttered down upon them, leaving smouldering pits in their clothes and hair.

With a flick of his wand, Snape parted the crowd, to reveal Mulciber and Urquart in its centre, locked in a grapple. Mulciber's hulking size was granting him the advantage of strength and weight in this department, holding the smaller boy in a headlock.

"Release him!" Snape commanded as he stormed up the channel between the crowds, sweeping his wand to force the two boys apart. But not before Urquart managed his own cheap shot at the larger boy, effectively elbowing him in regions best not assaulted. Mulciber's eyes crossed as he went down with a squeak, to the laughter and jeers of onlookers.

Urquart stood back, silently huffing, fury worn upon his reddened face. He looked a moment from hexing his downed opponent for good measure. But at Snape's approach, the boy withdrew, choosing to storm out of the room rather than weather the questions.

Lester picked his way to the downed boy's side, looking the very picture of dismayed, yet somehow still found it in himself to be sympathetic to the boy in agony. "Need the hospital wing?" He only got a groan in answer.

Snape sighed and waved the crowd away, ready to see to the bottom of this incident without gawkers or smart comments. But as the bodies dispersed, he could not help but pick out the empty seat in the corner of the room. His chance to speak one on one with Avery, disappearing along with the boy.

* * *

A/N: Poor Snape. Can't get away from drama no matter where he goes.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 3rd November 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 46: A Professor's Resemblance**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	46. A Professor's Resemblance

**Chapter 46: A Professor's Resemblance**

Lily's birthday passed without any more than a quick kiss out of public's eye. She had to get used to the idea of celebrating with less now because she knew neither of them had money to spend on the other, especially now that their accounts were one and the same.

But what she couldn't allow to pass without comment was another Valentine's Day. She finally had someone to celebrate the occasion with, but unfortunately, she had managed to land the only guy block headed enough to ignore a fifty strong swarm of owls dropping red hearts about his ears. Lily had sent one to him, but he only picked the paper craft heart out of his porridge with a curmudgeonly scowl on his face and flicked it away without the merest glance.

It was going to be like this was it?

Lily huffed as she straightened her stack of cardboard hearts and cards next to her plate of left over bacon rinds. She still received her share of secret admirers despite her no longer being of single status, a fact that everybody in the school should have known quite well. Salacious news of her marriage had already spread from eaves to bowel of the castle by way of gossipy Gryffindors, then later immortalised in gaudy song by Peeves the Poltergeist himself. Lyrics best left unrepeated in polite company.

"Is it just me or are the stack of cards getting bigger?" Marlene asked as she rifled through her own.

James raised a dark eyebrow as he glanced between the two girls. "Some boys just don't know when to back off do they?" he quipped with a grin, eliciting a snort of laughter from Lily. James at least, had learned that lesson well. The card that he would send to Lily every year now crowned the top of Marlene's stack.

"I got one from Sebastian!" Susan squealed excitedly, clutching a little pink heart tightly between her fingers, showing it about the table eagerly.

Pandora graced her with a doubtful look. "That doesn't even look like Urquart's handwriting."

Susan turned her nose up at her love rival. "Oh hush you! You're just jealous that he's over you."

"No, I'm serious. That's not his handwriting." Pandora insisted quite earnestly, returning to her plain omelette.

Susan was not having any of that, turning her attention to the rest of her friends and her shoulder to her love rival. "So he says he wants to meet me after lunch today, in private," she tittered, all excited.

"Maybe you should be cautious… in case it really isn't him," Mary offered sensibly.

"Oh tush all of you! You're all raining on my parade!" Susan huffed, returning to her plate of hash and kippers.

Without vocalising the huffiness she felt, Lily pushed her cleared plate away, having it whisked from the table in a blink of an eye by magic she couldn't quite explain. Throughout the meal Severus hadn't lifted his eyes from his bowl of plain white muck, scowling at it like it was the source of all this childish joviality. It always seemed like the more fun everyone around him was having, the more miserable he'd get to compensate. A permanent balance to all that is joyful in the immediate universe.

But Lily had been looking forward to this day so much. It fell conveniently on a Tuesday too, a day they both had off together. She had hoped her subtle hints at the occasion got through to him when they were patrolling Hogsmeade together the Saturday prior, but it seemed she had been too subtle in her invitations. It was obvious now that Severus was not going to succumb to the occasion. If she was going to have a Valentine's Day today she was going to have to take matters into her own hands.

And it seemed her window of opportunity was shrinking by the second. Severus had stood and strode down towards the Entrance Hall exit without any warning, leaving his bowl of porridge half pecked at.

Lily stood and quickly disengaged from the bench. "Well, ladies. I bid thee all good morning," she threw over her shoulder hurriedly as she rushed off after a disappearing Severus. She caught the door just as it was swinging shut behind him, but stopped short on barging out after him.

Because through the door she spotted Evan Rosier, standing by the corridors down to Slytherin Dungeons, glaring intently at the approaching Severus Snape.

"You have been studying quite hard, haven't you, Evan Rosier?" Severus asked, in a silky tone Lily had never heard uttered from his throat. "Living between the classrooms and the Slytherin Dungeon, coming out only to dine and disappear like a Lethifold on the hunt."

"What may I help you with Snape?" Rosier inquired in an impeccably polite tone, his smile not touching his hooded eyes.

With swift steps, Severus placed himself before the boy, their difference in height terribly pronounced by proximity. "Why, just today I heard you had even handed in your Prefect's badge… to dedicate further time to studying."

Lily gave a start. To abdicate on your Prefect role you had to personally hand your badge to the Headmaster. But for him to do this so close to their last half of the schooling was to condemn the rest of their student leaders to heavier workloads. No wonder Severus was in such a bad mood all morning.

An incredulous arch of his brow was all Rosier gave to such a pressing concern. "I do apologise, Snape. I fear my responsibilities have gotten the better of me."

If Severus shared a fraction of the annoyance bubbling up from Lily's frazzled thoughts, he certainly did not carry it in his tone. "Then I must voice a concern, Rosier. Our Seventh year is not something you can cruise through without the aid of the library. Surely isolation in our dormitories cannot be truly fruitful without resources."

"We shall see, won't we?" Rosier replied with another joyless smile before nodding a quick goodbye and striding down the dungeon corridor before Severus could say anything else.

Before her husband could disappear after the boy Lily pushed through the door and made herself known. She was beginning to tire of the looks of disapproval granted by those sitting at the end of the Hufflepuff Table. Confessedly she had been quite shamelessly eavesdropping. Something Severus was quick to comment on.

"How much did you hear?" he asked with crease upon his brow, whether that was from concern or vexation Lily could not tell.

"Everything," she huffed, feeling the need to pace back and forth three or four times to work out the energy of her frustration. "The gall of him! Dropping his duties as prefect so late in the year! How in Merlin's name are we supposed to deal with this?"

Severus might as well shrugged with his nonchalance. "The numbers of our Student Leader peers are the same as they would be if we had Head students promoted straight from our prefect pools. If anything, our numbers have normalised."

"But I wanted an easy year!" Lily almost groaned, sounding every way a whiney child to her ears and no doubt his. "Can we convince Dumbledore to promote another to the role? How about your friend Urquart? He's kind of great."

"Urquart has prior responsibilities," Severus muttered in a rush of breath resembling a sigh. "He's the elected youth representative to Wizengamot this year. He has to leave once a month over the weekend to attend hearings."

Lily groaned, feeling the joy of this morning bleed out of her at this news. Patrol schedules would have to be rewritten, Easter decorations approached with one less leading hand, general student duties shared amongst fewer heads.

She felt a gentle pat upon her shoulder. Severus always looked a little uncertain whenever he tried to comfort her, as if he wasn't sure what he was doing was entirely correct. His very image of awkwardness managed to breech Lily's little pit of self-pity and elicit a smile to her lips. "Why am I even worried? Most of the time it seems like you can handle everything yourself."

"I do need some help," Severus muttered quite seriously, as if taking her words as a threat to saddle him with the bulk of the work for the rest of the year.

Lily wrapped her arms about his waist. "So modest, Severus," she prodded him with a jesting smirk. "I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have such a capable man as my husband."

She stretched upwards to find his lips. He responded eagerly, until the doors to the Great Hall sounded and he emerged from their kiss to send a glare that way, scattering the emerging students.

"Come on, I know a place." Lily entwined their hands and tugged him towards the Grand Staircase. She felt him hesitate. "Do you have something else that needs your immediate attention?" she asked, brow raised.

His thin lips pulled into a grimace. "Alchemy," he replied, discomfort flitting across his face. He was loathe to admit that the most notoriously difficult subject in Hogwarts was giving him difficulties. That was the kind of standards Lily had found herself married to.

"Well, you could do that Sev…" she muttered, allowing her disappointment to colour her voice. "Or you could celebrate Valentine's Day with me." A sly smile touched her lips as his eyes widened with realisation. She untangled her fingers to his and stepped towards the staircase, pausing to throw a wink over her shoulder.

He didn't need much encouragement to comply, following quietly behind her, but pausing momentarily at the first-floor flight. That wasn't where Lily wanted to take this occasion, and she wondered if his sharp mind realised what she might have planned. Surely he might have an idea when they reached the flight of the seventh floor, and turned down the left corridor.

She stopped short before the portrait of Barnabas the Barmy, with an innocent smile on her sweet lips, amused by the rising redness of his cheeks. _There we go, he's thinking about it._ She didn't need to be a Legilimens to know what his internal struggle comprised of.

His dark eyes darted to the expanse of wall, then to her, then down the hall where the sounds of footsteps and jovial voices could be heard. Gryffindor tower was only a turn of a corridor away, and the sound of student traffic carried, no doubt prickling him, influencing his decision bolstered by his suddenly, and quite oddly rule-abiding nature.

But Lily wasn't going to let him succumb to his conscience easily. She pulled him down into a deep and sensual kiss. She felt his lips burn against hers, his hesitation fled as his fingers threaded through her hair, to rest upon the back of her neck. She withdrew, her breaths teasing against his lips, his dark eyes boring into hers, his mind quickly gathering. But before he could regain control, Lily stretched upwards on her tiptoes, bringing her lips to his ears.

"What do you need?" she whispered, her hot breath tickling his ear.

He did not answer, but he did not need to. For behind him a door appeared, answering the thoughts he would not voice. With an audacious smile and a pat to his blush-touched cheek, she strode past him to the door and yanked it open to reveal the setting he had in mind.

Only for her smile to fall from her face in confusion as she encountered what could only be described as the blandest bedroom she had ever seen. A small to medium sized room stood before her, with an equally proportionate bed sitting with its head resting against the furthest stone wall. The bedsheets were unadorned white crisp linen, smoothed with the most clinical of care.

No windows adorned the wall, instead brackets burned in each of the four corners of the room, along with the fire within the small stone fireplace, causing indistinct shadows to dance upon the walls with eldritch delight.

The only features worthy of closer scrutiny was the black and liquored wardrobe that sat in the centre of an unoccupied wall, decorated by golden gilding upon the edges of its frame, its grand majesty commanding the centrepiece of the room. And a desk of heavy black liquored wood that sat opposite.

With wide eyed fascination, Lily approached the desk. A candlewick burned warmly on the corner of its expansive surface, smooth and polished as if the House Elves had only just tended to it. Its base was carved the familiar serpent of Slytherin, a silver finish upon the scales of their bellies. "Why did you choose this place?" She asked, but from the look of mild horror upon Severus' face it seemed he hadn't intended for this room in the least. "Is this a dorm room in the Slytherin dungeons?" Lily asked, fascinated. The Gryffindors certainly had nothing like this, certainly not a private room for students.

"It's… Slughorn's room," Severus muttered. "I saw it when I visited him to arrange potion laboratory privileges."

Lily's eyebrows shot up as she turned her eyes about the living space once again. "Slughorn lives so austerely? Surely not."

"No, he's got far more rubbish lying about," Severus down right grumbled.

She could not help the giggle that tore from her lips as she nudged him in the shoulder playfully. "And you decide that's the room you want to bring your wife to on Valentine's Day? You deviant you."

His face lit up crimson as he spluttered, "Wasn't my intention, no."

"Tripped you up did I? Thought you were better than that at thinking on the fly," she teased mercilessly as she tested the bed. It was harder than it looked, almost uncomfortably so. "Seriously though. When you wished for a bed, did you wish for a rock to go with it?"

"I didn't wish for it," Severus grumbled as he sat himself beside her upon that granite of a mattress.

"You wished for something," Lily muttered as she played her fingers distractedly across his back. His black eyes were on her, colour upon his cheeks. She knew where his mind was headed, the very direction she was trying to take this.

He had told her once that he did not wish to engage in their marital benefits due to the rules of the school. But even he was only human…

He cleared his throat and averted his gaze, "I just asked for a... room to call my own…" he muttered, as he breathed deep. "I didn't ask specifically for this one."

Lily quirked an eyebrow. "And so it randomly selected this room from the list of rooms you've seen in your years?" she grinned as she nudged him again playfully in the shoulder. "I'd rather think this is the room telling me that you secretly want to be a professor."

Those deep-set eyes opened wider than she's ever seen them open. He rounded on her, face red and spluttering with indignation. "I certainly do not!" Far too strong a reaction for heedless indifference.

The girl's grin turned incredulous. "Oh my goodness. You actually have thought about it?"

"How did you interpret a yes from my no?" he could not look more embarrassed. It was adorable!

"Professor Snape. Can you imagine?" Lily continued, her eyes wide with dreamy delight.

"Don't call me that!"

"But what if I do?" Lily's voice turned suddenly sultry, her fingers fluttering over his collar as she drew suddenly close. "Professor Snape."

Severus' lips twisted as a smirk emerged upon his glowing face. It seemed after all her jabbing he was finally ready to play. "Then I'd take fifty points off Gryffindor, Ms Evans. For disobedience."

"It's Mrs Snape, actually," Lily muttered as she began unclasping the buttons on the front of his robes. "And please don't take my points away, Professor. I'll be good." She grinned as she laid it on thick, enjoying this silly little game.

Only when she glanced up for a kiss did she finally notice. Severus' face had turned a shade of pallid white that even ghosts would find unhealthy.

* * *

"I cannot believe you freaked out because I called you Professor," Lily grumbled as she sunk deep into the hot suds. Her disappointment almost a physical blow to Snape's pride.

"I don't like being called that. Not by you," Snape muttered his reply, stubbornly sitting ramrod straight, only half submerged in the ridiculous golden bubbles. The Prefect's bathroom was unimaginably ostentatious, washing was certainly not the primary function its construction had in mind. When full, a bathing student of Snape's height would not be able to touch the floor while standing. An oversight in Snape's opinion, as the primary function of baths cannot be achieved while fighting to not drown.

Thankfully there was seating available upon request along the wall where golden taps were sparse so he only had to momentarily flounder in the drink. The fact that he couldn't swim hadn't factored into Lily's decision to fill the bath to the brim, he supposed, but considering how today was going, he was willing to believe she might derive a perverse pleasure from his discomfort.

Lily had suggested taking a bath together as a secondary date spot after Snape had made a dash for the door to distance himself from the situation unfolding. Why in Merlin's name had she thought to play a vulnerable schoolgirl? That was two reminders he did not need, and his moral crisis centre was already at peak capacity. At the very least this date was going better, in that he was reasonably comfortable sans the near-death experience.

Lily sighed, drawing out of the bubbles to lean her head against the edge of the pool-like bath, the sound invoking his mortification and an accompanying glower of embarrassment. "I had said that we shouldn't engage in such behaviour at school, didn't I?" he muttered, passively aggressive.

"I don't see what you have against having some fun," she grumbled back as she ran her fingers through her sleek wet hair, so alluring in every sense of the word. And currently, so very forbidden. It was one thing to consummate their marriage, but another in its entirety to flaunt it under the very stone parapets of this school. Add that to the growing list of reasons he wanted to see these ancient magical walls behind him.

Snape averted his gaze, fighting the urge to fidget uncharacteristically, thankfully the threat of sinking aided him in that respect. "I'm not against fun. I'm against… feeling like I'm taking advantage of you."

Her eyes shot wide, her eyebrows arching along her wet hairline. "You do realise we were doing make believe right? I don't actually think you're a professor."

"I know that!" Snape snapped, uncertain whether the cosmos was having a laugh with its colossal act of situational irony. "I just don't like the implications that scenario portrayed."

Picking herself up upright, Lily wore a smirk that accompanied her arching brows. "Well I can see you will become a teacher of utmost moral integrity."

She really enjoyed pushing his buttons. "For the last time. I do not wish to become a professor." Snape sighed, fighting the urge to just kick off the edge and simply sink for a while.

"I can see it now!" She raised her eyes to the ceiling, bringing her soapy hands up as if to frame some intangible thing, "Professor Snape, scourge of the dungeons. Scattering terrified first years in his wake by the force of his scowl."

She wasn't exactly far off, but regardless, "I will not be a professor. They do not hire graduates straight from school. They have never taken one younger than twenty-one years of age."

"You've put a lot of thought into this." Lily turned those green eyes upon him, narrowed in knowing cheek.

"I read," Snape replied with an embarrassed glower, absolutely aghast by how easily played he was. Had he been this transparent in his spymaster days he would have met his end far sooner.

Her playfulness slipped off her face but her smile remained, glowing and genuine. "That's what I mean. You've put so much thought into this all. You've been reading and planning. You know where you're headed."

"I'm going into potioneering," he told her hurriedly. "I will find myself an apothecary to apprentice at while I do my Potioneering Masterclass Certification, after which, I should find myself earning decently." Talented Potion masters tend not to find themselves badly off in the world, a fact he was never able to fully exploit in his previous life. There were many a difficult brew worth their weight in gold, and few masters with ability enough to produce them. Snape had every confidence he could exploit that void and establish himself as the master that is called on for the impossible tasks.

"After which you'll take all your skills and experience to the next generation of students," Lily nodded sagely, as if what she just uttered was simply the natural course these things take.

"No! No." Snape felt like he was hitting his head against a brick wall.

Lily sighed as she sank into the suds. "You've thought a lot about this… I confess I hadn't put half as much thought into my future at all. I don't know what I'd be, honestly."

"I thought you said you wanted to be a charms weaver?" Snape asked, even though as he said it he could see no route in that path that laid in immediate paid employment. Experimental crafters of charms tended to be self-employed, and thus didn't usually reap any benefits from their work until much later in life, if at all.

In Snape's previous life, Lily wasn't pressed for money concerns, having married that rich jackanapes and was allowed the luxury of remaining unemployed. She could have very well dedicated her time off from risking her life to the pursuit of magical creation, another endeavour closely paired with the risking of life. Perhaps he ought to feel something akin to glad that the life he could provide her gave no reprise to pursue such perilous courses, and perhaps he might have had he brushed aside the burning shame.

"Let's… focus on something that I can earn money with right away," Lily murmured, sinking slightly into the suds. It seemed she was also starkly aware of the viability of her first choice in life. "I mean… I can brew as well."

"That's true. You are an admirable potioneer," Snape agreed readily. Of all the brewers he had seen pass these halls, and he had seen his fair share, few could hold their own against him as Lily had. Perhaps it was because she was the only one to have ever taken his advice, and made the effort to understand the ingredients as he did.

A smile touched those pink lips, "Coming from you, I'm honoured," but she could not help but add that one little last touch, in a singsong voice, "Profess-or."

Snape's brows knitted together in irritation, but instead of raising his voice in futility he swept his hands across the foamy pool, splashing a handful into the cheeky girl's face.

She gasped, first in surprise, then with breathless laughter. She retaliated in kind, sending foam and water in all directions, all the while laughing maniacally. Thoroughly drenched, Snape leant into her flailing arms, avoiding the splash by proximity. With a wicked grin she wrapped her arms about him, holding him against her as she charmed small flecks of suds to pepper his face.

"Alright, that's enough," Snape conceded without much struggle. Honestly he didn't know where to put his hands to even begin peeling her off. He needed at least one of them gripping the side for dear life, and the other found itself bracing against her soft skin and refused to do anything constructive after that.

Lily drew back, breathless with laughter and flecked with bubbles, her bright green eyes sparkling. The woman he married, vibrant and so full of life. This woman who did not begrudge him a smile, or revile his touch. So beautiful it was hard to believe that she could love one such as him.

Taken by sudden passion, he kissed her. She didn't recoil. She never did. Her sweet lips would match his, so soft, so sensual. Then they parted from his, she did not withdraw. Her breath warm and electric against his wet skin.

A loud squawk jolted the both of them from their moment. Remus Lupin stood at the door, towel in hand and feckless face burning crimson.

"I didn't mean to- I was just- I mean… Not important!" He almost squeaked the last words in his haste to find the door out, his efforts made more difficult by his refusal to open his eyes.

"Remus." Lily scrambled to immerse most of herself back under the soapy water. "It's not what it looks like," she uttered, as would anyone caught in the act of exactly what it looks like.

"No, no. It's my fault. What did I expect trying to take a bath on Valentine's Day?" The floundering boy finally found the exit, and positively fell through it in his haste to exit, and not a moment too soon.

If looks could kill, Snape's murderous glower might have levelled the school, its ground and surrounding villages. By contrast, after her moment of mortification had passed, Lily actually looked amused. "Goodness, we really can't catch a break today, can we?"

* * *

Afternoon would be his own to do with as he wished it seemed as Lily departed for Gryffindor tower, in favour of setting the record straight with that damnable werewolf. Snape cared not for the mongrel's opinion, at least not past initial embarrassment, but for whatever reason it seemed important to Lily that her opinion in that half breed's eyes not be tarnished. In some ways this was like returning to plans he had set himself early this morning, when the pressing concerns of his mind hadn't been the new pet name his newly-wed wife decided to bestow upon him. Who would have ever thought the day that Professor Snape would recoil at the use of the title.

But this afternoon would be a return to alchemy it seemed, deep in the dungeon away from all these tittering hormonal teenagers. It was ridiculous to think how similar a vein of behaviour his own had been just hours before, so close to breaking his own rules on the matter. As much Lily was his beacon to the light, she seemed to be his siren to his passions and desires, and though he would have been more than happy to play to her tune anywhere else, while he was here, he would act the model student. Snape could not expect children to respect the rules if he himself would not as a student, something that had too been his own failing in youth.

It was perhaps fortunate he had this opportunity to cool off this afternoon, returning to his dungeon and away from such seedy temptation. Lily wasn't at fault for his own failings, but her Gryffindor-styled interpretation of the rules was generally not helping his resolve. Damn these teenaged hormones. Another reason to be graduated and away from this place as soon as possible.

Charged and irritable, Snape returned to his dormitory to fetch his Alchemy kit. It seemed he would be going into today's experiments with his mind a muddle with this morning's affairs.

He brushed aside his wards to his drawer before pulling it open. Snape kept his kit under warded protection, but even that could not settle his nerves when it came to its most valuable component. The Focus Stones had a net worth of more than anything else he owned, and he was beginning to understand why most Alchemists wore their stones on their persons as gaudy representations of jewellery. Something he would not be emulating, no matter his paranoia.

Instead he had decided to delve into his brief affair with handcrafts, creating a leather sachet from the faux leather of his old shoes, after he had thoroughly treated the material for hygienic purposes. He would be satisfied simply having his valuables on his persons, warded and charmed against theft and damage. He wore the pouch now upon his belt, shielded from view by his robes. It made retrieving them awkward, but ideally he should not be fumbling for them in a hurry.

Tucking his kit into the deep but frayed pocket of his robes, Snape left his room, fully intending to avoid the bustle of the common room and head straight for the pleasing silence of his lab. But as was said of plans today, it seemed this too was not to come into fruition.

Cries of alarm issued from the bathroom as a boy was ejected suddenly. He made no attempt to re-enter, instead scrambling to his feet to dash off with shock written across his face. Snape entertained the idea of simply striding past and playing inattention, but after all morning measuring his desires against morality, it did not seem skirting his duty was the best way to cap off the day.

With a sigh, Snape turned towards the disturbance, surrendering his afternoon to the dramas of youth. He brushed aside the approaching curiosity seekers, sending them on their way with a glower. Bathrooms was not usually a realm of congregations, it seemed it was providing a good portion of today's grief.

But before he could cut into the heart of this disturbance, he was cut off by an unexpected dissenter. Sebastian Urquart pushed past, seemingly heedless of Snape's authority as Head Boy, his wand out and trembling in his hard clenched hand. The boy was livid.

Snape slowed a step, suddenly curious as to what this all was about, when suddenly he heard confused muttering arise behind him, and a lewd jeer thrown the boy's way. "Knew you were a Nancy boy!"

Snape sent a hard glower in the direction of the voice, silencing the taunting voice, and dispersing what little crowd was gathering. A prickling hunch was telling him this was not to be a public affair. Discretion would be king in this conflict. Especially when his own were at its core.

A little way from the shower cubical, standing awkwardly by one of the locked stalls, was Mulciber, because why wouldn't he be? If Urquart was so livid, of course Mulciber had to be involved. Without so much as a how-do-you-do, Urquart marched straight into the larger boy's personal space and prodded his wand straight into the fleshy underside of the hulking boy's throat. Surprisingly, however, Mulciber made no move to defend himself, holding his dinner plate hands out as if in placation.

The bathroom was in disarray albeit in subtle ways. Nothing was broken, nor was there water anywhere it shouldn't be. But there was an upended basin on the floor next to a bar of soap, as if dropped in shock and abandoned in haste, and a familiar smell that never boded well in any of Snape's recent memories.

For when had Polyjuice Potion ever brought anything but grief to Snape's life?

"What have you done?" Urquart hissed, apparently entering into this situation with far more awareness of what was going on than Snape had.

For what it's worth, Mulciber was not his usual belligerent self, instead he seemed oddly… reluctant to act. He had a wand to his chin but made no move to bring out his own, or physically overpower the smaller but most threatening boy.

"I would like to know the same." Snape strode forward, but to his surprise Urquart swung about to level his wand at the approaching Head Boy as well.

"You stay out of this Snape. This does not concern you."

Now this was a most peculiar development. "I think you would find disturbances in the Slytherin commons falls directly into my jurisdiction," Snape insisted, his own wand held loosely between his fingers. His black eyes glared into both boys' eyes, warning them both from rash decisions. It was time for some Slytherin sensibility to rule the day.

Urquart's wand lowered as his hot red rage seemed to abate a fraction. What replaced it was a brief glimpse of shame, before he turned away to glower at anything but those staring eyes, shaking with some unknowable emotion.

"It's gone wrong." Called a voice from the stall, which stopped Snape in his tracks and turned Urquart spinning about with a livid snarl. For that was Urquart's own voice offered from within, albeit a higher, and somehow more natural tenor.

From within emerged another Urquart, robed loosely in a black robe obviously selected with intention to fit his form, without success. Because nobody could have ever predicted the issue that had arisen. The imposter stood with his arm crossed before his chest, but that flimsy attempt could not possibly hide the strain of the fabric against the breasts that pressed from beneath.

Snape turned his shocked glare upon the true Urquart, who could not even bring his eyes to meet any of theirs. The situation unfolded within Snape's mind, and he could not fathom how this all came to be. How could this possibly come to be?

"Something went terribly wrong," came the shrilling, near hysterical voice of the Urquart imposter. "This isn't supposed to happen!"

"Shut it Lester!" Urquart snarled, bringing his wand up to the likeness of his own face.

Mulciber shook his head, seeming appropriately horrified by what had happened. "I swear I thought the potion was good. I paid good coin for it. I thought it was good."

"The Polyjuice malfunctioned?" Snape asked urgently, stepping forward to bring his wand to the imposter. In the history of this potion, he had never heard of an incident such as this. By every standard this seemed as if it would have been a success, had the form mimicked not come out the wrong gender.

But it seemed an unlikely scenario that the potion had provided an undocumented aberration, and from Urquart's distress, it did not seem to be a result unexpected.

But that left no other explanation than the final, and almost equally as ridiculous notion. That Sebastian Urquart was a woman, and had somehow found herself living amongst the Slytherin boys without detection for seven years.

But this was not a discussion to be had in front of so many.

"You would be correct, Mulciber, and Lester is it?" Snape remarked lightly. "They hadn't ensured the leeches used had observed the appropriate fasting period before harvesting. The taint of extraneous blood had resulted in this… aberration. Everything will restore as it should within the hour."

Urquart's brown eyes darted to his, subtle, and cautious, but a fraction calmer. They would need to discuss this, but Snape could at least assure the young _man_ that he would do so with the greatest discretion.

"Right. Of course." Mulciber seemed a world's difference in relief. "Thank goodness. You'll get your bits back, Lester." A look of utmost relief came across faux-Urquart's face.

With a sharp jab of his finger, Snape pointed to the stall. "You are not to leave here before the potion wears off, do you hear me? I do not need to deal with the difficulties that would arise." The disguised Lester nodded eagerly, likely uncomfortable with the mere idea of being seen like this.

"And you," Snape continued, turning his attention on Mulciber. "Ensure nobody comes within the vicinity of the shower cubicles before normality is restored." The large boy opened his mouth as if to argue, before seemingly thinking better of it.

"And you…" Snape turned upon the true Urquart, those brown eyes meeting his once before trailing away. "I need a hand with something I'm brewing, so grab your potion kit and meet me down there. Third door down in the private lab corridor."

And with that, Snape strode out, leaving the three boys, or was it two boys and one girl, to sort themselves out. He emerged from the bathroom to the scattering of an eavesdropping crowd, seemingly as interested in spectacle as their Gryffindor counterparts. At the very least the crowd seemed calmer, with laughter light amongst the bubbling discussion. Snape's misdirection would buy Urquart some time it seemed, until she did whatever needed to be done.

Courage was not a failing of Urquart, so she came to Snape's laboratory as she had been bade, but without her potion kit in hand. "I figured you didn't actually mean it when you said you wanted my assistance," she muttered astutely.

Sitting straight backed upon his own stool, Snape offered a conjured chair to his visitor. "You are right, but you should have brought one anyway. To misdirect if not anything else."

With a resigned smirk, Urquart shook his head. "Then your lie itself is faulty, for nobody would believe you need assistance in this department."

A relenting upturn of his lips was all Snape could offer to that remark. It truly was one of Snape's less brilliant deceptions, but it was all he was capable of giving as his mind reeled against everything else that had happened. "But I think you can be thankful that the unconvincing lie was not the one that mattered."

Urquart crossed her arms, glancing away again, but seeming far calmer than she had been. "I am thankful for what you did there, Snape," she offered, her voice not changing pitch from this forced deepness that never reached a comfortable base.

But it wasn't one of those moments where Snape would berate himself over how he should have put it together. He hadn't given any reason to think this would have been the case. There had been no warning signs to heed, no disturbance to be had except this one. By all accounts _Sebastian_ Urquart had been a very successful Slytherin boy.

"Explain," Snape commanded, pointing to the seat once more.

This time Urquart took it as directed, her eyes refusing to meet her older counterpart's, but a strange smile twisted upon her lips. "Elaborate."

A throw back to their very first conversation, the significance was not lost on Snape. "Explain what it is you intended to accomplish, pretending to be a man."

"Pretending?" Urquart's fair brows lowered, darkening her eyes. "How could I possibly _pretend_ to be where I was sorted to? When I was sorted into Slytherin, the bed prepared for me appeared within the boy's dorm. I can pretend to be a man as much you can pretend to be a Slytherin."

Snape knew how the process worked. How could he not, with almost two decades of teaching experience. Everyone knew that the Sorting hat made decisions as to which house a child would belong to, but few realised what that meant for the arrangement of the rooms. Nobody knew how many each House would take each year, only the number of children there would be. None of the rooms were prearranged, because how could they be? But thankfully no administration efforts were needed upon this issue.

As the hat sorted the children, the rooms magically extended and provided accordingly. A sentient castle responding to the decisions made by a sentient hat. All that was needed was the House Elves to descend upon the newly created rooms with fresh covers, and blankets, and pillows, making comfortable these newly welcomed souls.

Only it seemed, according to Urquart that the Hat had made a conscience decision to not only sort between Houses, but between the gender-guarded rooms too. It was said that the Hat never made mistakes upon a glimpse into a child's heart, but with the likes of Peter Pettigrew among the Gryffindors, the likelihood of mistakes was more likely than not.

"When this issue first cropped up, you could have taken it to Dumbledore. You did not need to simply accept the situation you were dealt." This particular situation had never cropped up in Snape's time, and he honestly did not know whether there would have been a protocol, but he had no doubt if it came down to a simple matter of having a bed moved from one room to another he was more than capable of seeing to it.

Urquart's blond brows met again, her fingers threading before her as she touched it to a chin seemingly in consternation. "Perhaps I have not made myself clear, Severus Snape. I did not see it as a mistake. I hadn't want to be placed with the women. I'm not a woman. Don't think of me as a woman."

"How am I supposed to think of you then?" Snape snapped, feeling agitated by this unusual situation. "You had lived six years among the opposite sex, as they dressed, and attended to their hygienic and personal matters. This has suddenly become a matter of school decorum and morality."

Urquart bit back hotly. "And has my presence disrupted this routine once in my seven years? Have I ever commented, or acted inappropriately on any of those matters? Has my, being physically female, ever affected anything but my own schedule when it came to any of that?"

The answer would be no. Because Sebastian Urquart had been a loner. So nobody bothered to find out why she would never change in the room with everyone else present. Nobody questioned why she would bathe only when the stalls were empty. Nobody was interested enough to even realised she maintained a smooth chin without ever needing to shave.

"Do not think I'm any different from the day you first spoke to me, Severus Snape. When you asked for my support when you thought to change the world," Urquart continued, her voice roughened and muted, but sharp still in tone. "I didn't hesitate when I believed you were doing right. The only man who would stand beside you without a guarantee or a prod with reality."

"Man?" Snape sneered.

A rush of anger touched the girl's brown eyes, deep set but suddenly feminine to Snape's realisation. How did he not notice how feminine Urquart's appearance had been before now? "I held my own for seven years, asked for no special considerations or accommodations, and suddenly only this matters?"

Snape crossed his arms and uttered not a word, his black eyes not wavering from the woman that sat defiantly before him. That had lived seven years in absolute mockery of school rules amongst children oblivious of the truth.

A girl who had indeed held her own in every respect in the world she had chosen to live in. Bore the roughhousing and boorish banter without complaint, and seemed as true a man as any who had walked through the stone corridors of Slytherin. Had today not happened, Snape would have never been the wiser.

"I will have to bring this matter before Dumbledore," Snape muttered, not cruelly. His opinion had formed unkindly, but to his surprise the revelation did not shake him as terribly as he had thought it would.

But Urquart hadn't seemed the least bit concerned by this notion. "The headmaster knows."

Because of course he did. Snape fought to bury his hands into his palms. This was after all the man who had been more than happy to allow a werewolf to live amongst children.

"If it weren't for Dumbledore, I couldn't have kept this a secret. I bet you don't even remember the name McGonagall read off that list when it was my turn for sorting."

She would be right. Snape couldn't have cared less for any names save Lily's and his own.

"Well don't bother trying to recall. Just know, by the following morning Dumbledore had called me up to his office to discuss my living arrangement. When I told him I was happy with how things had turned out, he had offered to change my name on the role. I picked the name Sebastian."

Snape almost smirked at the ridiculousness of it all. That man truly was as mad as everyone said he was, for who could fathom what went on in that head of his.

"Who else among the teachers know?" Snape asked, his voice no longer carrying spurs.

Perhaps detecting the resignation in the Head Boy's tone, the tension dropped from Urquart's shoulders. "Of the teachers, Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. Perhaps Professor Slughorn… but on second thought maybe not. I don't think he notices anything past my surname."

Snape could absolutely understand Slughorn's ignorance. He would not count on the man to know one student from another if they didn't add another leaf to his laurel.

"What liberal application of rules those Gryffindors have," Snape muttered.

"And as generous with their sense of stubborn righteousness as they are with their nosiness." Urquart seemed to agree with a relenting smile.

Silence fell between them, heavy with the unasked question. Would Snape keep this secret? If the teachers truly knew, and those with authority were simply shrugging this incredible situation away, then the only loose end Urquart really had was one student that knew too much.

She was honestly fortunate to have been sorted into Slytherin, where their sense of justice was tempered with reason. Snape was never going to hang another child to the mercy of another, let alone one that had been by his side since the start of it all. A companion, if not a friend.

"Your actions speak loudly of that reckless streak of Gryffindor within you, but your choice of Slytherin shows you at least thought as far as this. I will not say a word to any of our peers so you may persist to graduation in peace," Snape conceded to Urquart's smile.

"I hadn't doubted you Snape. But I confess you had me worried."

A twist of his thin lips confessed Snape's displeasure, but the words that passed his lips bore a prick of his thorns. "I have enemies enough, I do not need create my own. Check yourself Urquart. For if your carelessness exposes yourself I will not shield you at my own detriment."

"That is simply how Slytherins are," Urquart agreed, seemingly sated with what had been given. Instead she glanced over her shoulder to the closed door, "With this settled I feel content to return to my life. No sense holding you up. Not with your Valentine's at your door."

Snape glanced to the door as well, his lips twisting with annoyance. "You warded my door."

"Because I hear your wife is a terrible eavesdropper," Urquart replied with a smirk as she stood to depart. With a swift motion she yanked open the door, catching a falling Lily with a swift but suave motion.

"Just checking… wanted to know why the door was locked," came Lily's excuse along with her sheepish smile.

Urquart didn't look the least bit concerned, confident in her own privacy wards. "By all means, the room is yours. I'll take up no more of your husband's time." She turned her deep-set brown eyes between the two with a respectful tilt of her head. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks," Lily replied without the least bit of abashment. "I'm lucky to have him."

A strange smirk snaked its way across Urquart's lips. "I wouldn't have been inclined to agree in the past, but I understand what you mean now." And with that, the strange girl slipped out the door, leaving his wife staring after her, smiling a puzzled smile.

"You two have a thing I should know about?" she asked with an upraised eyebrow.

"Don't even joke about it," Snape growled, absolutely not in the mood to entertain this in the realm of teasing. He couldn't even begin to describe how uncomfortable this knowledge was going to make him within the sanctum of his own room. But he had weathered far more uncomfortable situations in his jagged life than just the socially awkward.

"Well my day went great. Thanks for asking." Lily plopped herself down upon the recently vacated chair.

Snape turned an arched eyebrow upon her. "We spent most of the day together. I didn't feel the need to ask."

"Except that one little bit where I had to chase after Remus to ensure he wasn't permanently blinded"

"Or ensure that he was."

Lily shot a glare, but one armed with no barbs. "You're usually a lot more subtle. Bad mood?"

Snape could not help the sigh that issued forth. "My mood can be quite volatile."

"I can believe that," she agreed without any hesitation. Such flippant cheek from anyone else would have only be met with dour annoyance, but Lily had always been the exception. "Either way you'll be glad to know Remus isn't going to blab. As to whether he believes me … well we're married so bully to him."

Slipping about to his cauldron, Snape surrendered any notion of breaking out his alchemical experiments today, instead deciding he might as well get the Wolfsbane aging process out of the way early. Thankfully the finicky potion allowed a reasonably lax window for these steps at least.

Lily leaned back to watch, quite content to spend an hour simply watching him. Though inexperienced, Lily had the focus and skill to make a brilliant potioneer, should she choose to pursue this course. And with a professed knowledge in a brew such as the Wolfsbane, she would be a desirable hire for any Apothecary.

"While you do that, I want to work on a brew of my own." Lily smiled so very sweetly there was the instant alarm of ulterior motives.

"And that is?" Snape asked as he put his cauldron on the flames. There was a good two minutes at least before the substance reached a high enough heat to begin the process, and that was two minutes to worry about what was happening on the other side of his bench.

"Well…" She grinned, a cheek filled grin that stretched worryingly between her reddening cheeks. "I want to learn… that potion... the one you gave me after… Christmas."

It took a moment for the realisation to register with Snape, but it came to him along with reddened cheeks. "Lily. Must you tempt me?"

"Who ever said it was about you?" She quipped so nonchalantly, baiting him. "I want to learn so I'd know… for the future. I can't rely on you to take care of me all the time."

"Assumedly I'd be there when you need it," Snape muttered with a snip in his tone.

Lily sighed, long and heartfelt. "Yeesh. You're such a grouchy goon right now. If you're having your period just tell me." Snape glared as she grinned in odd humour, before she seemed to sigh again. "When did you become such a choir boy?" Such an odd question, because he neither sung nor attended church. "Because I remember when you never looked twice at a rule you didn't like. Sneaking into the restricted section of the library. Practicing dangerous spells on your own. Breaking curfew left right and centre. I used to be the one freaking out about your rule breaking."

"That simply came along with my change," Snape confessed, as good as the truth.

"And I suppose you snuck into the restricted section to learn this brew before you changed?" Lily's brow arched in such wicked humour.

Snape scowled and did not immediately reply, embarrassed by her implications. The truth was he learned to brew this along with a slew of medical potions as part of his Masterclass certification, something he could not possibly admit. "I was… optimistic." He gave through gritted teeth, humiliated by the false alibi he was forced to give that painted him all the worse in his deluded youth.

But Lily didn't seem the least bit disturbed by the idea that he had lustful intentions long before anything good had come about between them. "Well I really shouldn't be too surprised," she simply muttered with wistful smile upon her lips, and a sparkle in her green eyes. "And here I thought it was just the title of Head Boy going to your head."

"Perhaps I strive for better now… because I do not wish to enforce an example that I am unable to set," Snape muttered as he pushed his ladle through the surface of the warming potion and brought it slowly to the surface, noting a thin film clinging to the back of the spoon. It was ready.

Lily sat back into her seat to watch him as he got down to work, turning down the flames to keep the brew adjusted on this temperature. Since their first mishap with the potion, she would always be hesitant to disrupt him as he set to concentrate. Though he had fair skills in multitasking, he understood her reluctance to run that risk, not after all the effort they spent getting the brew to this stage without any means to restart.

Snape added the flocculants, carefully coaxing the clotting process of the brew. The mould that accelerated the aging of the brew produced a toxin that had to be purified through this process each day for just over two weeks, with the mould being neutralised upon the final day.

Slowly, Snape lowered the ladle back into the brew, bringing about in his careful strokes. His motions rhythmic as congealing masses begin to form, careful not to break apart the solids but ensuring the contents of brew never ceases its circular motion. His wand was pointed firmly to the flames as he continued this rhythm, never allowing the pot to come to a boil. As his ladle came for its tenth pass, he withdrew it, replacing it quickly with a sieve to remove the first congealment of impurities.

A tedious task needed to be repeated several more times the course of this night, and more still in the nights to come. A task Snape had repeated more times than he could numerically recall, and a task that even Lily had come to find routine in. But even so, those green eyes continued to watch. Bright, curious and attentive. Not the eyes of any student that had ever passed through his halls.

* * *

A/N: Oh Lily, this is positively a mighty effort made by Snape to celebrate the season. He's not exactly a cards and flowers kind of guy.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 17th November 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 47: Advantage of Foreknowledge**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	47. Advantage of Foreknowledge

**Chapter 47: Advantage of Foreknowledge**

Easter was creeping ever closer as spring swept through the Scottish countryside chasing away the last of the snow of a farewelled winter. The fair weather had taken hold, and with it came the lush greens that stretched miles wide. A seasonal change that affected the mood of the student body quite noticeably, but the joy short stayed with the older years. For along with the dawning of the season of flowers came the beginnings of exam panic.

There was hardly a smile among the seventh years, and fewer still among those within Slytherin. How much of that came down to exam stress, and how much from student drama, Snape had no notion. Rosier barely ever left the Common Room. If he wasn't bent over a desk in the corner, he was brooding in a chair. But by contrast he was functioning far better than Avery, who would hardly leave the room. Snape could not help but feel some part of that had been his to blame, especially after how their last encounter went. That was possibly one of Snape's less subtle persuasion attempts, and it went about as well as one would imagine.

But those two were positively industrious compared to Snape's group of misfits. His three companions didn't seem to even realise exams were coming considering how few times he found any of them with a textbook in hand. There was definite tension between Urquart and the other two, and Snape was not certain who was the source of it all. Perhaps he had not been as convincing as he had thought, perhaps Urquart's secret still hung up in the air. But if so, the restraint they all kept in giving nary a comment was truly admirable.

Even Snape found himself bothered by this notion, but he had the excuse for knowing things for certain. He found himself changing on the other side of his bed at nights, and reluctant to climb out of his posters in the morning if he sensed movement within the room.

Urquart had assured him that she had no designs upon men, a concept Snape was beginning to suspect had a hand to play in swaying Dumbledore. But that had invoked another concern in the bothersome morally-aligned category.

"I trust you have not… _played_ with young foolish hearts." Snape had asked in a low voice as he approached the brooding girl in her corner.

She had returned him a withering look, as if she couldn't believe he had even asked such a thing. Neither could Snape, if he could be perfectly honest. He ordinarily could not give a toss about heartbreaks evoked by the stupidity of youth.

"Rest assured, Snape. I have ensured any woman I have attempted to court knew my intentions as well as my… anomaly. I do not wish to find victory in deceit."

To that Snape scowled, hearing a chastisement in her statement. "That is usually the norm for Slytherins."

"Then tis fortunate for all that in this respect, I am not a very good Slytherin," Urquart had quipped with a folding of her slim fingers. "But I find I cannot pursue carelessly. Not if I wish to keep this from being slung down the hallways by Peeves."

"Ah. Susan," Snape had muttered, realising all too well now the implications of this situation.

Urquart's lips had twisted in a tired grimace. "Mulciber has got to fish his balls out of his handbag and stop blaming me for his own failings. I damned well welcomed him to take her off my hands."

As they both understood it now, that whole incident down in the bathroom had been Mulciber's half-baked plan to win Susan's affection. A scheme that Lester somehow found himself roped up into. Lester, disguised as Urquart, had kept to the bathroom stringently for the hour he was under the influence of the Polyjuice with Mulciber keeping company as they no doubt thought on their life choices.

However the plan experienced moderate success despite none of its components performing its intended function. Susan had thought herself stood up, on Valentine's Day no less, and would not take Urquart at her word when she denied any involvement. Snape rather thought it was a wonderful opportunity to be rid of her once and for all, but it seemed the crossdresser had a bit of a reluctance to act cruel. Had she actually been a man, Snape would have thought it was due to the chivalrous teachings of a gentlemanly upbringing, but as it were, he chalked it down to the need for validation.

Thus, the drama around Snape's close associates had reached an all-time high, and with Lily taking her study breaks to the lakeside, he found himself spending his entire weekend locked away in his lab. Suddenly, the time he was able to allocate to Alchemy had increased twofold, resulting in his approach turning from cleverly thought out, well mapped experiments, to what approached calamitous mixing and hoping.

It was to this Snape credited the lump of caustic goop that sat fizzing in a shallow pewter dish in the middle of his runic table. This was the result of mixing an Australian Brown Snake venom together with a Black Mamba's to simulate the deadly fast-acting venom with neurological and hypotensive effects, but then attempting to transmute the mixture into a more caustic substance. The result was this coagulated mess.

Snape sneered at his attempt, vanishing it, pewter dish and all. With a listless prod of his wand, Snape summoned his Focus Stone back to hand. Much of his product still reeked of his starting snake venom, evidence that his stone had not touched every element of the starting substrate. Even if the final product would be a failed one, it would be a step above what Snape could do now.

His difficulties here, however, lay with the chemical varieties that existed within a biological substance. Should he succeed in forging a stone that handled one element superbly, there would be three others that soared above its capabilities. Adding to that already difficult field was the fact Snape had been playing with venom mixtures, thinking to bring together Transmutation with Golpalott's Third Law in an attempt to inverse it. Unfortunately he as good as doubled the organic variables in his starting solution, making the quest to formulate the perfect Focus Stone just _that_ much more difficult.

Perhaps if he were to use the mixed substance as the stone's base? It was rare that the object to be transfigured took the form of liquid and he held no data for what results that would provide.

A sense of satisfaction slid squarely back into seat as Snape took quill to parchment to draw up his table He was given free reign of any alchemical substance he needed from the school stores for this project but it would not go amiss to treat his resources with some due respect. Some structure was what made the difference between an experiment and freehand flap about.

Snape measured out his venom, mixing equal parts of both to begin with, taking care to record the units. For the focus, Snape thought to start out with a fleck of silver, for it was said to be an element that touched the soul, and he could not think of a better description for the type of venom he wanted to create.

Though the stores were open to Snape, he felt no need to burden the school budget unnecessarily by the use of pre-prepared material. He had generated so many silver chips from so many previous transmutation attempts, it would do to reuse them as he saw fit. Considering how little silver came from one of his attempts, he could never quite break even on materials used. It made the whole idea of pursuing alchemy professionally laughably unprofitable.

With practiced motion, Snape took to his chant. A familiar course he had worn into his memory through repetition and practice. Drummed into him by his own discipline, no syllable failing by his tongue nor memory. With a flick, Snape dropped the silver into the cauldron, the clear toxic liquid swirling about its silver centre.

Taking his wand to his temple, Snape prepared the memory. The memory most likely to be the key was a memory tied most closely to death. A memory coloured with naught but despair. The memory the Dark Lord himself had gifted him.

Of Lily's death at his hands.

Snape felt his throat choke as he faltered in his chant. The spell broke, halting the swirling venom to an unnatural still. A process he would need to restart, the moment he could wrest his reeling mind under his control.

He had not allocated proper thought to that particular vein of guilt in months. Not since his life had taken a turn for the golden, had he touched upon that familiar despair. He had forgotten how harshly the pain had stung.

With a wordless summon, Snape fished the silver fleck out of the cauldron of venom, rinsing it off with a gush of water from his wand. He sat for the longest minute, simply staring at his cauldron, simply trying not to feel. That memory still existed within him, sharp and profound as the day it was lodged into his mind.

It would be poetic to craft that vile memory into a weapon, to have it play a role in the destruction of the very fiend that perpetrated it.

But to do so would be to give physical form to that nightmare. A thought that filled Snape with unimaginable, and irrational fear. He knew to invoke the memory in this form would not be the same as casting a premonition, but all the same he could not face its existence. An idiotic reaction that bordered on superstitious. But none the less, it would not do to tempt fate, especially when his track record looked as it did.

Taking the nugget of silver, Snape weighed it as if it were the troubles of his mind. Perhaps this path would bear the fruit he sought, but today would not be the day he explored that path. Not while there were still other equally curious options to explore. He was no masochist.

Snape began his incantations once more, returning the silver nucleus into the magical foundation. Retracing his steps to the final step, Snape brought his wand to his temple and summoned a strand of memory. Another memory stained with death, but not one that made him revile at the touch.

The memory of his own death, and the moment that accompanied crossing over. A unique memory upon this world no doubt, for how many among the living could truly claim to have seen what he had. Perhaps if he so chose to converse with some of the undead denizens of this castle he might find similar veins of experiences, but among the actual living, he likely stood alone.

A unique memory that was likely never before explored in the likes of Alchemy. Something Snape had planned to dissect in his spare time, under controlled conditions, but as he floundered for an appropriate memory of death to work into the venom, he could see no better reason to delay his experiments.

Without dropping a syllable in his chant, Snape drew out the shimmering strand of memory, holding it over the swirling liquid. With a gentle tap of his wand, he dislodged the silver thread into the cauldron, and almost started.

Black crystals burst forth from the belly of the cauldron, violently usurping the liquid, stilling its form in an instant. Silver veins jutted through the clear crystalline structure, as if a vascular system existed within this stone that clung to metal as if it were growing vines.

Snape watched cautiously, wand levelled and ready to bring things to permanent control with a quick vanishing Spell. But thankfully, it seemed what eldritch response his unnatural memory elicited had passed. What was left was an odd structure of climbing crystals that coated the belly of the cauldron, so unlike any stone that Snape had ever created.

With a Severing Charm, Snape attempted to chip out a portion of the structure, causing it to shatter into several odd-shaped shards and littering his runic table with flecks of brittle silver crystals. With a scowl, Snape swept the litter along with a twitch of his wand, gathering it all in the clear centre of the table and out of the furrows that ran along the table and vanishing the small pile of debris to clear the clutter. All that was left was one long narrow clear stone, shaped like the end of a spear tip.

Snape did not know what possessed him to touch it. He should have known better than to make physical contact with a substance of unknown qualities, but like a half-wit Gryffindor he found the object clutched in his hand. It felt as if his breath was jolted from his body, the air itself seeming to still as colour seeped from its walls. Beyond them, flashes of colour passed by, shimmering in a way he could almost hear the laughter of life strike through the unnatural silence that seemed to press from all sides. He felt like he was slowly drowning in thickened air, with each breath coming in heavy and slow.

It felt like the slow suffocation of death, a feeling he knew better than almost anyone. A peaceful relent of the second half of dying, no burning gasps for breath or mad thrashing against the inevitable. But he wasn't leaving, he was aware. He still sat in the world of the living, breathing, existing. It felt instead, as if the world had simply ceased.

He glanced down upon the stone clutched in his hand, glowing as bright as every beacon of life that shone outside these walls, only to catch sight of his own glowing hands. His weathered hands, streaked with age and scars from years of mistreatment that had not yet passed in this lifetime. Hands that should not exist upon his younger form. Nor the snake that twisted from the mouth of a blackened skull that peeked out from his short sleeves.

With a startled cry, Snape dropped the stone, gasping as if he broke the surface of the water as the world took on colour once more. He scrambled for his sleeves, brushing both up, peering desperately at the pale canvas of his forearms. No hideous mark blackened his sight, no terrible remnant of mistakes made long past. Just his forearm, plain and pale, and his hands still young and unmarked by toil and time. He was restored, young and unsullied once more. As he should be, in this lifetime at least.

With a careful prod of his wand, Snape analysed his creation, taking care not to touch it again. It rang back, clear and pure and as magical as any focus stone he had ever held. A focus stone in true then, but with properties as unknown to anything he knew about the substance, for they should not react as it did. Focus Stones were catalysts, they assisted other substances in their reactions. It did not produce a magical effect on its own. Certainly not one that made Snape see the vision of his true self as he did.

Unless the wizard himself was its authority, and what he had witnessed was his soul, singing to the tune of that stone. That was a terrifying thought. That there might be a possibility for him to cause irrevocable damage to his soul by his own ignorance.

With care, Snape summoned the stone into a conjured box, sealing it with every ward he knew. This was something he could not carry on his person for caution to his health and that of those around him.

Cautiously, Snape wedged the box into a small gap between jars upon the shelf behind him, bewitching it with a Disillusion spell and warding the area around it. Without a lock and key to enchant and call his own, this was as secure as he could possibly make it, as easy as his heart might rest.

* * *

Lily stood rooted in her spot, horrified by what she saw. Feathers and blood littered the rough dirt of the coop, its surviving denizens in squawking disarray.

"What happened?" she asked utterly aghast, unable to tear her eyes away from the gory scene. She had been setting off for the lakeside when she was alerted by the sounds of avian distress coming from the direction of Hagrid's hut. Though she had originally drawn up plans to while the time away among friends by the lake, the upcoming Quidditch festivities stole away a bulk of her friends, leaving her with only those that would much rather sink into a good book or shelter indoors. This activity of indulging curiosity had initially seemed the reasonable middle ground.

"A student did this 'ere," said Hagrid from within the coop, gathering up what he could in his massive saucer-like hands.

Lily started. "A student? Really?" She was utterly appalled at the thought. "Who was it? Did you get a good look?"

"Nah. it was dark." He grunted as he pulled himself up, meeting the top of the wooden coop before he could even straighten his legs. "Jus' saw he were wearing black robes and don' got none of the silver in his hair as most folks 'round here got. Ran off before I could get a good look at 'im."

"But he was a he?" Lily insisted, grasping for any lead she could find. The moment a student became involved this turned into her duty.

Hagrid tilted his great woolly head, his thick black hair gathering up the loose wooden chips shaken off from the ceiling. "Yeah I'd say it was a he. More he than she. Is'n' that right Digger?" He directed to his ancient Scottish Dear Hound, staring sullenly at the scene before him with almost regal resign.

"Are they all… roosters?" Lily asked as she stared at the mangled forms clutched in Hagrid's mitts. She could make out the combs dangling off their beaks, and unless her general knowledge on non-magical creature had fallen through, she was pretty sure she could discern between chickens.

"Yeh. None of the hens were touched." Hagrid scratched his head, covering it with scraps of downy feathers. "Scared 'im off b'fore he could kill anymore though. Got seven left. Maybe tha's tha."

"Well I am getting to the bottom of this, Hagrid. If it's one of mine… I promise you I'm not going to stand for this… butchery!" Lily declared with a huff, her mind reeling with utter disgust at the thought of a student being able to do something like this to defenceless animals. This was in right need of discipline!

This matter mired her mind as she marched down to the lake, formulating her plan for tackling this situation. Remus had been the prefect on patrol the night before, alongside fifth year Hufflepuff Duncan Small. The best plan would be to find one of those two and inquire as to whether a student was found out of bed, or more likely, if they had sighted a student out of bed and promptly lost them in the chase. The prefects did not have a good track record in catching marauding students.

However, when she arrived at the lake, all she found was Marlene and James, locked tongue deep in one of their snogs. No doubt everyone had the same idea at once about retreating and leaving the two to it.

Moreover, when Lily arrived at the Tower, Remus was still nowhere to be seen, along with every other Marauder. She almost felt the urge to turn around and march right back to the lake and right between the two feisty lovebirds to demand where Remus was, but she honestly didn't think those two were capable of any external awareness at the moment.

This was one of those times she wished she had a hold of that intrusive map of theirs rather than scratch her head at all the possible places to hide in this massive castle. A powerful enchanted artefact, no doubt, for being able to peer through the castle's secrets so thoroughly. And likely would make their efforts in finding her far easier than if she were to fumble about blindly.

With a sweep of her wand, Lily sent her Patronus prancing off with a message for Remus to find her at his earliest convenience, confident that at least one of those boys would use that map to locate her with ease.

She had to use what little time she had away from the books wisely, so decided to move on quickly to her next best source of information. Down to the first floor to request detention records from Filch to see if anybody was caught out by the teachers last night. What a pleasant encounter this would be.

As Lily trudged down to the ground floor, she debated with herself as to whether she should bother Severus for this. He had a far better rapport with the crotchety caretaker and would likely not get turned away at the door. But even as she thought that she withered at the thought that she couldn't even take care of a simple matter of liaising with a staff member without running off to her husband. This was not the sort of Head Girl she envisioned herself to be.

Not to mention how hard Severus had been hitting the books lately. He was probably down in his labs, tearing his hair out over alchemy again. Even if she wasn't going to put her nose to the grindstone yet, it would simply not do to bother him unnecessarily.

But as she drew close to that small unmarked door she knew to be Filch's Office, she saw a face she did not expect to see. Evan Rosier peeked out from the door, taking care to scout his way, only to make uncomfortable eye contact with the Head Girl herself.

Lily's eyes narrowed. "Mr Rosier. You're certainly not meant to be in there. I can see no reasons why an _ex_ -prefect should ever have legal access to Filch's Office." She was still sour about that. Doubly so when she had to undertake a patrol shift that had been slated for him.

His eyes widened marginally, before they narrowed once more, fixing Lily with a glare of utter reproach. Without a word he attempted to march past her, as if he had every right in the world to be where she had caught him, but Lily blocked his path. "What were you doing in there?"

"I don't have to answer a mudblood," Rosier hissed, abandoning every shadow of proper decorum. Not an ounce of the manners Severus had once touted the boy to have.

He made to pass her again, and she stepped into his way, again. "Excuse me, where do you think you're going?"

Rosier's eyes flashed in outrage, as if he had every right to be outraged. "Out of my way!" he hissed as he pushed past harshly, shouldering her aside when she moved to block him once more.

Lily stumbled into the wall, throwing her hands up wildly to soften her impact. She bit down on her tongue to suppress every urge to swear that threatened to follow her cry of surprise and pain as she caught her nail upon the roughened stone and split it down the middle.

Rosier didn't even glance back as he hurried down the corridor, his eyes pitched determinedly to the floor. Lily gritted her teeth against the pain as, bolstered by her righteous anger, she took off to catch the offending boy, immobilisation spell prepared on the tip of her tongue.

But it turned out she needn't resort to spell-fire violence, because he as good as walked straight into the wall of meat and muscle that was Sirius Black. Only slightly dazed, Rosier pulled himself together fast enough to attempt to slip around the intimidating Gryffindor boy, only to have the violent boy's hand grasp him by the scruff of his robes and shove him into the wall.

"Heya, Lily. This scum giving you trouble?" he asked coolly as Remus half-jogged around the corner, quite winded.

"I got. Your message," her fellow prefect said doubled up and panting. Peter waddled up beside him, wheezing as if every breath caused him unimaginable physical pain, while chubby hands grasped that marauding map. They were all no doubt spurred into immediate action by the projected threat of Lily and Rosier's encounter. A threat seemingly validated by the sight of blood dripping onto the paved floor from the crack in her nail.

With a vicious grin, Black slammed his fist into Rosier's sternum, causing the struggling boy to crumple against the stronger boy's firm hold. "Thought you'd pick on a girl did yah?" he barked viciously, spitting on the Slytherin boy.

"Stop! Let him go! Stop!" Lily demanded, aghast that this was the first vein of thought that comes to Sirius Black.

With a roll of his eyes, Black did as he was bade and released the boy, allowing him to crumple the rest of the way to the floor quite roughly. "Aren't even grateful when I help you. You know this is why I don't like you."

"By all means help me. Don't avenge me," Lily muttered as she approached, dabbing at the blood with a handkerchief Remus had conjured for her. He had a serious hero complex like James did, except he always tended to take things several steps too far. Sirius Black always brought out the worst in his best friend, of that Lily always felt certain.

"What do you want us to do with him?" Remus asked in still winded breath, quite content to defer to her judgement. But there wasn't any question as to what protocol dictated upon finding a rule breaking student.

"We take him to his Head of House." Lily stated as she wrapped the handkerchief about her finger and knotted it securely. "Professor Slughorn will determine what happens to one of his students when they are caught breaking into the Caretaker's office."

* * *

The first class of Monday morning had been Transfigurations, and it was an almost amusing dose of irony that it should be on the topic of the very skin suturing healing spell that could have saved Lily from a trip to the Hospital Ward and an hour's worth of reassurance to Severus when he spotted her journeying up from the Dungeons.

Professor Slughorn had received Rosier as was expected, a small lecture on the importance of respecting another's privacy and sent on his way without a single point docked or a single day of detention scheduled. Lily had thought at the very least Slughorn could show a little interest when his students were caught misbehaving, but who was she to question a Professor's decision? All she could do was brew in her trudge to the surface until Severus found her bleeding through her handkerchief and onto the smooth stone floor.

She wasn't silly enough to tell Severus what actually happened then, fearing too rightly the conflict she might stir within that pit of snakes. Though she knew he wasn't a righteous hothead like so many of the other men in her life, some part of her was still worried about the possibility. It wasn't so long ago that her husband had been her hot-tempered best friend, whose reactions could be as unpredictable as they were vicious. But unfortunately none of her friends shared her concerns in this matter.

"It was Rosier," Susan all too eagerly supplied from three desks behind, she had moved a few weeks back to be closer to the less than eager Urquart. "When she caught him in Filch's office he shoved her right into the wall." Lily sighed into her hands, just imagining the expression on Sev's face. There was just no having Susan privy to anything.

And that being said, that very Rosier was probably sitting within earshot. Certainly if Lily could hear the conversation from all the way at the front of the classroom, Rosier who sits in the back closer to where Severus sat with his Slytherins could surely hear it all as well.

The end of class couldn't come soon enough, to the great relief of most students. Very few of the students had managed to stitch together their patch of pigskin without drama. Severus had not managed to smooth away the scar, though maybe it was more down to being distracted half-way by a gossiping neighbour. In the end James and Sirius were possibly the only ones able to pull off this difficult branch of Transfiguration flawlessly.

Lily could only stare forlornly at her own attempt, the two sides of the cut flesh refusing to meet on levelled plane, resulting in a bulbous mess of scarring. Well that has certainly struck healer off as a possible career choice.

"I get we use pig skin because it's so similar to human's, but I wonder what they do for the students who can't touch it?" pondered Dorcas as she collected the skins in a tray to hand to the front.

Marlene handed in her mangled mess of an attempt and glanced at the girl in quite apparent confusion. "What scenario could possibly produce a student unable to touch pig skin?"

"Like Jack Goldstein, my Housemate with the stutter who graduated three years back." Dorcas continued, levitating the tray for collection in the back. "He was Jewish and had his own little catering corner at the table with food that was especially prepared for him. He would never eat bacon. Wouldn't even touch it."

"Oh he didn't take Advanced Transfigurations." Pandora interjected, her own table cleaned up neatly well before anyone else's. "And even if he did, he wouldn't mind. He just can't eat pork. For the purposes of non-edible spell work, he'd probably use it."

Lily's eyebrow lifted at the statement, as too did Susan's it seemed. "How do you know this so _expertly_?" the girl asked in a salacious voice. "Was there a little dalliance back then that you didn't inform us about?"

But if the question landed anywhere near the mark, the girl gave not an ounce of indication by her continued airy smile. "Oh no, but we were friends. I met him through his year mate, and our mutual friend Xenophilius."

"Nutty-Philius Lovegood?" Dorcas pursed her lips in surprise. "I hadn't known he had any friends."

Pandora shot a frown of disapproval to her Ravenclaw friend. "He may have not been popular but he had friends."

Oh the relentless judgement of their friends. Lily felt for Pandora, she really did, but with Severus' approach she didn't feel she could add much to the conversation before being whisked away to another. But unfortunately for him, somebody else wanted her attention before that.

"A moment if you please, Ms Evans," Professor McGonagall called from the front desk.

"Shouldn't it be Mrs Snape now?" Susan interjected unhelpfully from the back, giggling away.

The professor fixed both girls with an appraising eye. "That may be, but while you're all students within these walls she will remain Ms Evans."

Lily ducked her head to hide a smile as she made her way to the front. It wasn't that she didn't like her new title, but having her friends mention it at every given possibility was wearing thin indeed.

As she approached the desk, McGonagall fixed her with her steely green eyes, a look that would have set first years jittering in their boots, but for a seventh year who had long learned how to distinguish the look in the professor's strict expressions, she knew that was not the look of disappointment that preceded a lecture.

Instead, the professor's eyes softened, as too did her voice. "It is my understanding that this upcoming Easter Break you might wish to put your name upon the list of stays."

With her father gone, and sister as good as estranged, there was little where else she would wish to be. "Yeah… I think I'll be staying," Lily answered with a twitch of her lips she hoped mimicked that of a smile. She was still getting used to the fact that the home and family she had always known had been struck asunder so quickly and so completely. At least she still had Severus, her one constant in her otherwise ever-changing life.

The professor gave a nod, no doubt expecting as such. "I would no doubt Mr Snape would wish to stay as well, given his propensity to avoid home visits as I'm told. In which case both our Head Students would not be present on the Hogwarts Express."

Lily winced, realising how this might seem a disappointing dodge of duty. "I'm willing to accompany the train down and Apparate back. I have no doubt Severus would as well."

"Ordinarily I would gladly welcome your admirable display of responsibility, Ms Evans, but given the circumstances I would be happier knowing you are rested." McGonagall offered her a kindly smile that made Lily's eyes water unexpectedly. "Stay with us this holiday, Lily Evans. Don't worry yourself over the Hogwarts Express. Mr Lupin had already approached me with an interest in leading those patrols, a task he's proven capable in, I'm told."

Lily glanced over her shoulder to her friend, finding the back of his head in the throng of leaving students, grateful for his offer. "He is more than up to the task. He's great, honestly he is." Lily could not help but smile, touched by this small gesture that spoke volumes. From Remus, and from the Professor. "I'll stay and rest then. I'll happily leave things to Remus."

A curt nod was all that was offered by the stern teacher, a glimmer of empathy in her eyes. "Then the matter is settled, Ms Evans. I'll expect your name on the sheet when it comes out next Monday."

Lily nodded with a smile, trying her damnedest not to tear up. There was always something about unexpected thoughtfulness that made her insides weep in gratitude. She turned, eager for the privacy of a quick escape, only to realise she had forgotten she had been keeping someone waiting.

Severus stood at the door, peering at her with a puzzled expression at the watery state of her eyes. A little embarrassed to be caught, Lily made to wipe away the tears before they could properly form. She didn't want to even attempt to explain to him the complex state of emotions, or the major part he played in it all. She was so grateful to not be alone in all this, he had no idea.

"Professor McGonagall just wanted to confirm my Easter schedule. Nothing to worry about," she chirped happily in a slightly hitched voice, something she hoped he didn't notice.

Severus gave his small reluctant smile, laying a gentle touch upon her hand before withdrawing in deference to the crowds they joined. With a subtle gesture of his head, Sev directed them towards a quieter corridor.

"I wish to discuss what happened yesterday," Severus began, his voice almost lost in the bustle of noise. Even quieter corridors were loud, but thankfully it would quite quickly disperse going into second period.

"Susan needs to learn to shut her beak," Lily quipped tartly, annoyance flicking her in the face like whiplash.

He angled an eyebrow as his black eyes found hers. "You did not intend to tell me?"

"Of course not. The matter is resolved," Lily muttered, hoping he'd interpret the bitterness in her voice as residual annoyance from her statement before. Slughorn's judgement was imperfect, but she just had to learn to get on with her life. She didn't need Sev involved in this.

But Severus would not let up. "I wish to understand the context here, please indulge me. Why did Rosier attack you?"

"Exaggeration. Embellishment." Lily threw her hands in the air. "He didn't _attack_ me. I caught him in Filch's office and he pushed me over to get past me but I'm quite sure he didn't mean for me to fall over and split my nail."

Severus' brows contracted as he stopped mid-step, prompting Lily to do the same in the middle of the thoroughfare. At least one student had to scramble to avoid them. "Filch's office?"

"Yeah, I don't know what he was doing there either." Lily grimaced, making a mental note not to mention how Slughorn hadn't even bothered to question the errant boy. Sev had a rather low opinion of the Professor already, and it would break the old man's heart to hear that one of his favourites would distain him so.

Severus made a subtle motion before marching off in the opposite direction, Lily could only assume he wanted her to follow. It wasn't until they slipped through the relative security of the trick wall to their Alcove did Severus press any further. "Tell me everything," he demanded as he put up his Muffling Spell, something he invented to use during times when silencing spells were inappropriate. It was far more subtle to hear buzzing in your ears than a sudden void during the busy hours of the day.

Lily settled into her seat, by the slitted window, freckles of light sparkling orange as they caught the sweep of her hair. "Where to begin," she breathed resigning herself to this fate over the course of her free morning period. "Well I suppose it should be down by Hagrid's Cabin. Someone had killed his roosters so I had-"

"Hold on. What?" Even in the gloom of the poorly-lit alcove, Lily could tell Severus' eyes had widened threefold. "His cockerels were slaughtered? All of them?"

"Not all. Maybe… half?" Lily pondered, trying her best to recall what happened exactly. "Hagrid said he chased the culprit off before he lost all of them. But it was the damnedest thing. Not a single hen was touched. So I did what I thought I could, and went to Filch to see if anybody was caught out last night. Hagrid swears up and down it was a student."

Lily paused in her recount, frowned as she peered up at her husband. It was like a statue had suddenly replaced him, he stood so still she couldn't tell if he was still breathing. Slowly, however, he let out a pent up breath. "I have to go," Sev muttered, gathering his cloak as if he were about to sweep out but paused upon the threshold. Then issued the most perplexing demand he had ever made of her. "I don't want you out in the corridors. Stay in your common room if you do not have class. Do not go anywhere alone." And with that he left before she could gather her wits.

* * *

An hour passed, and Dumbledore was nowhere to be seen. Snape paced, wearing familiar tracks in that smoothed stone floor he had come to know so well. But waiting was something Snape was willing to do, even if he had class after morning break he would have skived off it to wait.

Because this information was not something that could.

When he had arrived in the office, he was all but appalled that the headmaster had to be absent today of all days. When Snape held such a vital piece of information that had to be acted on with all due haste. He pondered as to whether it might not better serve his time to simply take aside every student and personally interrogate them, but that would likely prove to be doubly time inefficient, not to mention strip away any level of pretence he was trying to maintain. It did not help his nerves to know that Lily had not taken any heed to his bidding. Through his ring he could feel her shuffling still about the floors beneath, stubbornly refusing to even humour him.

Snape stopped mid-pace to take a deep breath, only to find his annoyance stoked further at the sight of feathers littered about the room. Whatever the headmaster was attending seemed to be of less than vital importance, for he never left his bird behind when he had to deal with matters of life and death.

When he entered, Fawkes had been perched in his usual stand, fixing him with a black-eyed stare. His feathers were moulting from his tail, but even without any prior studies in Magizoology Snape had known the beast for long enough to know this was not the sign of its Burning Day.

Without knowing where Dumbledore was, or sparing a moment to ponder whether he might interrupt something important. Snape had summoned a slip of paper and etched a hasty message with the tap of his wand, then offered the slip to the watching bird.

"Please take this to Albus Dumbledore. It is of vital importance that he receives this right away." Snape had beseeched the beast as if it were some thinking, feeling being, but to its credit it seemed to have a semblance of at least owl-like intelligence. It regarded the young man before it with one last glare of appraisal, before it grasped the slip in its great curved beak and disappeared in a whoosh of flame.

If the bird knew the meaning of urgency, then the hour that passed did not prove it, though it could be just as likely that it was Dumbledore himself that did not understand the meaning. Who knew how malleable time must seem for a man who was nearer to a century than half.

But eventually, Snape's patience was rewarded, as Dumbledore materialised upon the floor of his office in a startling burst of flames. His phoenix hopped off his shoulder to find his perch, resuming his usual role of staring beadily at the strange young man trespassing upon his territory.

Dumbledore swept behind his desk to assume his grand chair, gesturing for Snape to do the same. The expression that lined his age worn face showed he had approached this with a far greater sense of urgency than the postponed nature of this meeting made it seem.

But Snape did not take his seat, instead striding to the desk and laying his information straight at Dumbledore's feet.

"Your students are in grave danger," Snape rasped, his voice tight from the anxiety that wound its way about his throat, constricting him for that hour of delay. "Cockerels have died. The diary is in the school."

* * *

A/N: Foreknowledge is truly the Slytherin's tool. Severus Snape and the Chamber of Secrets anyone?

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 1st December 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 48: The Taste of the Bitter Sweet**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	48. The Taste of the Bitter Sweet

**Chapter 48: The Taste of the Bitter Sweet**

The silence of night was punctuated by the sounds of sleep. The darkness that cloaked the Slytherin dormitories settled only lightly this chilly night, as the logs within the fireplace burned low. Winter had passed but spring in the Scottish mountainside still brought with it a bite of chill.

Snape arose from his bed, fully clothed, and stalked silently past the shaded beds to stop before the drawn posters of one. He brought out his wand, drawing it along the bed, checking for any wards or traps. It was disappointingly void. How very trusting of a Slytherin sleeping amongst those that stood against his oppression.

But it would have done the boy no good either way.

With a swift sweep of his wand, Snape parted the curtains and stunned Evan Rosier before he could rouse enough to even cry out. With another flick of his wand, he levitated the boy off his bed, sending his catatonic body out through the dormitory stairwell while following silently after.

It was well past curfew, and nobody was hanging about the common room. Snape had ensured it, casting the Human-presence-revealing Spell several times over the course of the hour, biding his time for when there would be no witnesses. This very same spell Snape wore upon himself now as a precaution as he pushed out into the darkened hallways of the dungeon corridors. A precaution needed for breaking curfew.

Snape slipped down those familiar corridors he knew even in the pitch darkness of night, carrying his quarry as he slipped silently forth. The years of stalking these very halls with the softest of steps had served him well for no echo marked his movements.

They did not go far, only down to the closest classroom, one of the disused theory chambers down in the dungeons. Snape could not trust engaging the boy in the common room lest a student meandered down in search for the bathroom. He had need for privacy, and that meant an environment he could control.

When he finally enervated the boy and woke him from his unconscious state, it was with the room silenced and sealed. Should Rosier have had his wand on him, Snape doubted the boy could unwind his wards. But he had been brought out in naught but his sleepwear, and it seemed such constructive thoughts were far from the boy's mind as he sat up from his slump in his chair and glanced with confused fright. The only light in the unlit room was the soft glow of a conjured light orb that sat at his feet. Snape stepped forward with silent steps, looming seemingly from out of nowhere causing the boy to yell out with sheer fright.

"It'll do you no good in here, Rosier," Snape drawled in his deep intimidating tones, "This room is silenced and warded, and we'll have no unwanted ears upon our… _necessary conversation_."

Rosier visibly shrank into his seat, genuinely intimidated by a man who would stand a foot shorter than he. "L-Look, Snape. I meant no harm to your girlfriend, or whatever. My actions were a little brusque and I apologise for-"

"I am very pleased to hear," Snape almost purred, pulling up a chair to sit himself directly face to face with Rosier, with the orb of light at their feet directly between them. He had no doubts the shadows that clawed at his face painted him a frightening figure, no matter his appearance or stature. Lessons he learned from years of extracting obedience from disrespectful students.

Even in the darkness, Snape could find Rosier's eyes. Though he could not see its shape and colour, he could feel its draw. The gift of a Legilimens. But the windows to Rosier's mind were a haze. Occluded, rather competently, but not well enough should Snape choose to broach it forcibly.

He could hear Rosier's breath shorten, no doubt aware of Snape's prying prods upon his mind. He and Avery were both informed by the younger Black of his abilities in the mind arts, information that would no doubt reach the ears of the unsavoury outside of these walls. The question remained, how much of his power could he afford to be known? Should Snape reveal the extent of his powers in the mind arts, no doubt the Dark Lord could not possibly pass over his presence.

But he could always wipe Rosier's memory of this encounter. To wring him for the truth then Obliviate him. Heavy handed, but effective, and terrible. A tool for the darkness, and the bite that Snape knew too well. This path would be the one Snape was least willing to set foot on, but he was too schooled upon the realities of the world and of war to absolutely refuse an option due to ideals alone.

Twisting his wand between his fingers, Snape stared down the boy, weighing his approach. "Was it you who killed the cockerels?" Snape asked, a direct question, and a pointed one. But one that did not reveal the extent of his knowledge on the matter.

His lips twitched, but only the lightest touch before it disappeared. "I have no idea what you are speaking of Snape. What cockerels?"

"Indeed, what cockerels?" Snape crooned. "So if I were to ask Filch for records on students found out past curfew that evening, I would not find your name written upon the ledger?"

"Feel free to ask the man. I doubt he'd forget a single student he's slated for punishment." Rosier dipped his head, shoulders visibly slackened. Tension left the boy, too obvious a tell-tale sign of relief. Snape's questioning was off the mark, he would not find Rosier's name upon that ledger. But that begs the question…

Why was Rosier in Filch's office?

"I hear Slughorn spared you a stint in detention. How very thoughtful of the man. Especially considering you take every opportunity to hole yourself up in the common rooms." Snape leant forward, causing the boy to lean back instinctively. "It makes it incredibly difficult to catch you for a private conversation like this."

"Some of us need to study, Snape," Rosier remarked, his tone light and conversational but his shrinking form spoke volumes of the opposite. A half-truth at best. There was more to the reason to Rosier's voluntary isolation than he would admit, and Snape had realised what that could be the moment he feared for Lily's safety.

Resting his fingertips gently together, Snape turned his head as if truly contemplating those false words. "I suppose the library is not necessary to that endeavour."

To which Rosier shrugged in quite petulant a way. "Some of us can afford the books ourselves."

Annoyance coiled from Snape's gut, but quashed quickly. Spy work was a delicate game that had no place for ego, a far more difficult ask to adhere for a temperamental teenager. "And it seems that you can also afford the time, for I have never returned to see you studying, Rosier." His black eyes smouldered with such rage he almost expected Rosier to see it even in the depth of darkness.

"I'm as subtle with studying as you are with your relationship, I'm sure," Rosier quipped lightly, his smart tongue doing nothing for Snape's patience. This was the problem, the longer this went on the faster Rosier would find himself grounded. The unbalance Snape struck in the boy could only be kept for so long. This was not some younger student he could intimidate with his presence, but a year mate, taller, richer and one with far darker leanings. As far as Rosier was concerned, what does he have to fear of Severus Snape?

Taking a subtle breath, Snape reigned in his temper, turning tact once again. "I'm certain Professor Slughorn would have changed his decision should he have known you have time enough to spare. Knowledge he will be given this second time round."

Rosier's eyes narrowed, before widening marginally as if something just occurred to him. "You haven't…" He glanced about, as if just realising he was outside of permitted territory. "You brought me out here to frame me for breaking curfew?"

"Oh I'll put in a good word for you," Snape drawled, his lips curled in a sneer. "You do, after all, have prior experience in prefect duties. And it just so happens Mr Filch needs a pair of hands, magical hands, to clean up the messes left by late-year magical maladies. You see he is a friend of mine, and I do hope your efforts would make his life easier."

"You want me to follow around that _Squib_?!" That word came out in a hiss of anger, but the widening of his eyes held an emotion different.

And it confirmed everything Snape hoped. "Surely you do not fear him? I assure you Squibs are not contagious."

"This is beneath my station!" Rosier demanded, a show of panic and disharmonious emotion that was so unlike him. He feared, not for Filch, but for what being around a man like him could mean. The dangers of standing beside a man of no magical status when the great Slytherin beast is unleashed to hunt.

An ember of rage burned in Snape's heart, a smoulder different to the irks of his pride. "To me your station is naught but of a student. You do not get to pick and choose your deserving." This was a boy who knew what was coming, knew and feared terribly, yet would risk everyone else with his silence. If Rosier would not give up what he knew voluntarily, he would under subtle threats, or if needs be, under far less subtle coercive measures.

"Well good thing that I did no wrong. You were the one that brought me out here," Rosier hissed, no longer settled.

"You would be correct, you do not deserve punishment for getting caught tonight. Think of it as punishment owing for the last," Snape's lips curled almost cruelly, "trespassing into Mr Filches' office to… transgress as you please. Behaviour not befitting that of an upstanding student of your station as you purport to be. As once a prefect who had been so willing to punish me for transgressions of the past, do you not agree, Rosier?"

"I would not! I hadn't… I didn't go in there to destroy evidence, or steal contraband, or anything of the sort!" Without a pause of thought, Rosier's words of admission trickled through before his mind could sift it.

Snape did not let the tickle of satisfaction onto his shadowed face. Rosier was a clever boy, but he was still a boy, and too lacking of experience to play this game with the likes of Snape. "Then please, enlighten me. What was it you were doing?"

The Slytherin boy hesitated, seeming to sense he teetered on the edge of his senses. "I... can't say."

"Can't, or won't?" Snape's patience resettled. They have pushed into territories of no denial, just a little push more. "Because if all is truly as you say, surely voicing it would be to your advantage."

"You have no idea!" Rosier hissed, unable to maintain his cloy calm any longer. "You know nothing of what is happening! You know nothing of what would happen if I speak even a word! You stand back and reap your traitorous rewards without casting a single thought of those you stabbed with your actions!"

"Ah, so it is to do with the Dark Lord?" Snape almost smiled as the boy seized up in his seat. His eyes growing wide as saucers upon realising what he as good as confessed from his very mouth. "I cannot say you have improved your standing with that admission, Rosier. I dare say this might even require… the headmaster's attention."

The boy had no idea that his words gave away nothing that Snape didn't already know, instead the victory lay in fear. Fear that he had crossed that uncross-able line by his own volition, and finding no way out but forward.

"No. No, don't." Rosier shook his head, his eyes wide with horror. "You don't understand. He'll kill me."

Snape tilted his head, the lightest of smirks upon his thin lips. "I guarantee you that is not Dumbledore's style." He was being obtuse on purpose, and from the flash of frustration that touched Rosier's eyes his words were taken as on merit.

"Don't be daft," he muttered, body going limp in his seat. The adrenaline of fear must have abated, leaving him worn and wrought with exhaustion.

Snape threaded his fingers together, resting them upon his lap as he leaned forward. "My purpose right now is to uphold my duties. If what you say is true, and what you were doing did not run counter to the safety and order of the school, then you are not the target of my ire. But you need to give me something."

"I don't suppose money is an option?" Rosier muttered. Even fatigued his sharp tongue bade no rest.

"Two options, Rosier. Tell me why you were in Filch's office, or tell me who killed those cockerels." Snape drew his line. They struggled less when they think they are presented with a choice.

Slowly Rosier drew upwards, straightening upon the seat. "I will cooperate, but… I'm no good to you dead," he grimaced, as dignified as he could possibly be in resignation. "All I can tell you is… keep an eye on Filch's office. Your cockerel killer will be revealed."

* * *

Lily could not believe her eyes. The hesitant new spring sun had barely peeked through the castle windows and the first thing she saw this morning upon stepping out of the portrait hole was Severus, standing quite obviously in wait as he scowled away all the curious glances. This was one of those moments that made her question the functioning of her ring, but she knew better than to blame her own lack of awareness on the integrity of her enchantment. She was perhaps becoming too comfortable with his magical presence.

"What's the occasion?" Lily asked as she stepped up beside him, and out of the way of the breakfast traffic. "Is it my birthday?" She joked as they fell into step with the crowds. "Or is it yours?"

"Neither," Sev muttered, taking her jibes quite literally.

"It's not our anniversary is it?" Lily asked quite seriously, wracking her brain to confirm the day isn't actually when they actually first started dating. "I'm not pregnant am I?"

He actually started at the notion, before turning a grimace of annoyance on her. "Don't even joke about that."

She flashed her perfect white teeth. "Well forgive my confusion. This isn't exactly on your way to the Great Hall, oh husband of mine. Head Boy matters?"

He seemed to relax at the sight to her, a marginal release of tension from his shoulders. "Must I have a reason to come to see you?"

Lily raised a thin red eyebrow. "You do when it's seven in the morning."

"Is this man bothering you?" Marlene joked as she fell into step on her best friend's opposite side.

"I'm doing no such thing," Severus replied dryly, obviously missing the friendly undertones.

Marlene caught her friend's eye, her eyebrows darting about her hairline as if to say 'is he serious?' To which Lily replied with a long suffering smile, intended only half in jest.

"You're in protective boyfriend-mode aren't you?" went Marlene's second attempt conversation, "All wound up about Rosier manhandling your girl."

"Husband, not boyfriend," he muttered, not even the least abashed or denying these allegations.

"Seriously, what's wrong?" Lily urged gently, "You weren't even this protective after the whole… Travers and Wilkes thing." Out of the corner of her eye, Marlene winced. Lily's best friend would never admit it, but the thought of that incident still rattled her.

Her husband's black eyes met hers, seeming to weigh his words before delivering them. "Our relationship back then was… complicated. I didn't think it my business to be protective."

"It kind of still isn't now." Lily quipped back with a bite, probably sounding meaner than she intended.

Sev's lips twitched in a shadow of a grimace. "I think that's more your problem than mine."

Lily with arched her brows, annoyance prickling under her skin. "Hey I can handle myself, I'll thank you to know."

"I'm pleased to hear. You'll forgive me for wanting to ensure you won't have to," Severus replied quite tartly.

It was quite sweet of him, Lily supposed, but that was simply not talk tolerated by the braves of Gryffindor. Marlene narrowed her eyes upon the Slytherin Head Boy, and Lily could feel the backlash build before the first words had even left her best friend's tongue.

"Okay, listen here yah bugger." Marlene all but shoved a finger straight under Lily's chin to jab into Severus' shoulder. "She's not some dainty little Slytherin girl to tuck away in a shelf somewhere. Lily's a Gryffindor, and you better respect her like one. If she says she can handle herself you damned well back off."

Sev's eyes whipped around to glare right back at the offending girl, as if struck into wordless offence by her sheer gall. Lily sighed and braced her hands upon both their shoulders, staving off the bickering that was surely brewing.

Her husband grimaced and seemed to shrink into himself. Quite obviously a goliath effort on his behalf to control his vitriolic tongue, and an effort Lily appreciated from the bottom of her heart. She loved him dearly, but he could be so rude when he's cranky, and a cat fight between her two best friends was not Lily's ideal start to the morning.

They worked their way down the Grand Staircase, their crowd joining the straggling Ravenclaw flock on their decent to the breakfast halls. Among the blues and reds, the lone green stood out quite tellingly. There was no way Sev could avoid the curious glances that came his way, or the outright stares from the boldest of the lot. All the attention was sure to make him uncomfortable. A fact for which Lily felt little sympathy. For a man who spent so much time thinking, surely he'd realise this would be what would happen when he decided to show up unannounced to escort her to her breakfast table. A walk she's managed independently several times in the past, one might think surviving mornings for this long might warrant her some credit. But Sev was doing this out of love, Lily knew, and she was doing her best not to let her annoyance show.

Mary once told her that boys sometimes had to make a territorial show, especially after a trespass of some description. It occurred to her that she had always thought Severus to be above the need for such macho antics, it just always seemed to her that he'd be too level headed to be… manly.

And now that, that uncharitable thought passed her mind, she felt immediately apologetic.

"It's sweet of you, really…" Lily muttered, by means of a truce. Severus lifted his eyes and peered testingly through his thick veil of hair, Slytherin suspicions making him naturally hesitant to take her words on face value. "I appreciate that you care, Sev… I really do." She tried again, putting a little more earnestness into her tone. "But believe me, I'm alright in the mornings. I'm hardly alone on this leg of the journey." She swept her hand about her to emphasise the crowds, many of whom quickly whipped their eyes to the front before Sev could notice their stares.

Severus dipped his head in acknowledgement, ever so reasonably. It was honestly hard to believe he was the same boy from merely two years ago. When she felt like every attempt to convince him of his folly was like clawing at the smooth slope of a steep and slippery incline.

But that erroneous young man exists no longer, a concession he made, and a promise he kept. The Severus who existed now deserved more consideration than she in her questionable patience was willing to give, and perhaps too little less stubbornness. She can't expect him to always act like she wished, and nor should he.

Stepping into his personal space, Lily snaked her arm through the nook of his elbow and entwined her fingers through his. He glanced to her, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "You can walk me up to the tower every evening, how about that?" Lily offered, and felt his grip tighten about her fingers.

"Well that's a touching display of shrinking independence," Marlene mocked uncharitably as they touched down at the Entrance Hall.

Severus' faint smile evaporated in an instant and a sneer took its place. That sneer that always promised a cruel sting in its wake. "Yet I can't help but notice that despite hailing from the same dorm, Potter never offers you the same courtesy. Your lack of womanly ways must truly do wonders for your independence."

Lily's eyes grew round at the barb of his words, but rather than follow suit in affront Marlene gave a short bark of laughter, "You're a real arse, Severus. It's a wonder why she likes you," before pushing through the doors to the Great Hall and taking the first seat available on the slowly filling Gryffindor table. On days without Quidditch events, it was consistently the last table to fill up for breakfast, but the first for every other meal proceeding.

Without a word to her husband, Lily untangled their fingers and hurried after Marlene, apology on her lips. "He didn't mean that," she uttered as she found her seat beside her friend on that still mostly empty portion of the table. "He just gets… really defensive."

That half-smirk that had been on Marlene's face melted off, replaced with a dour grimace. "The trick is they can't know they hurt you with their words, you know. That's how you deal with bullies." With a scoff, she shook her head. "That is, if you can't beat their face in. I was two seconds away from knocking in his wonky teeth."

"Severus isn't a bully. He's just…" Lily floundered, allowing Marlene to fix her a sardonic look and reply.

"Mean?"

Lily sighed as she pulled up a plate and loaded it up with omelette. "He's getting better, I swear," she muttered, unable to help a glance over her shoulder at the sullen boy, stalking over to his side of the Hall.

"You're right, he's usually so in control. So good at pretending to be behaved. He just gets cranky when he's challenged. It's his way or bust, isn't it Lil's?" Marlene huffed as she took a full bite of her hotcakes, piled high with honey, nuts and strawberries. "Back in the problem days, it used to really worry me about how obsessive he was. Remember how he got angry that you wanted to hang out with us instead of him? Thought it was getting better but here's him, trying to wrangle you under his 'protection.' And there's you, just… conceding."

"We're married. And he's worried about my welfare. I think that's fair," Lily muttered, prodding her fluffy eggs without much enthusiasm.

"Gonna sign off on your apron with that?" Marlene snipped as she switched her bite for a slice of seared ham, simply sinking the slice in one bite.

Despite the sting, she almost smirked, "If anyone's getting an apron, it's him. He's handier in the kitchen."

"Pink frills?" Marlene grinned, her white teeth flecked with grease and strawberry seeds.

"With ribbons, and daisy patterns," Lily confirmed solemnly, before settling to her first bite in lieu of cooling emotions.

A snort from her best friend heralded that most had been forgiven. A relief for Lily, for they had gone so long without the two coming to a loggerhead.

After a moment of amicable silence, Marlene swallowed her bite, her eyes not lifting from her plate as she spoke. "For your sake, I hope things between the two of you stay as smooth as you hope," she muttered, her voice flat, barbs flattened, almost resigned, "and perhaps, that if things do not, that you'll realise before you feel the sting." She jabbed her fork almost violently into her remaining stack of hotcakes. "I don't ever want to be in the position to have to tell you 'I told you so.'"

* * *

Snape had planned his class-free Tuesday in the library, luring Lily under his watchful eye with the promise of homework. He hadn't mentioned again his protective desires he confessed in the morning, not after how well it went over with her. A Slytherin never chose the same approach to meet a goal when he knew it would only result in failure. Unfortunately not all scenarios ran so smoothly, even for a highly experienced spymaster. That was particularly true when tasked with keeping a risk-seeking Gryffindor from the very risks she sought to take.

"With Transfigurations and Potions out of the way, I declare that this has been four hours well spent. But no more books for today, my head's going to explode," Lily declared in a hushed tone as she stood up from her mess of scrolls and textbooks. "Besides, I promised Marlene and James I'd come watch their practice before dinner. Last game of the season coming up, gotta make sure they're not slacking off."

Snape dried his ink with a tap of his wand and had it furled up neatly and stored into his tattered backpack. "I wish you would apply same strenuous dedication to their academics. Merlin knows Gryffindors could stand to apply yourselves a little more to the study halls."

"Is that an offer to invite them to another study buddy session?" Lily asked sweetly as she packed away her books wildly in any random order.

Snape gave a humourless twitch of his lips. "Please take it as rhetoric."

With a gentle heave, Snape shouldered his straining backpack, then fell into step beside his wife. The noise of the corridors fell upon them as they left the calming silence of the library, class having ended for the day. The jostle of children, most of whom didn't give the library a second glance as they passed. Do they realise the finals was starting in merely three months' time? Assuredly not according to the atrocious papers Snape was forced to mark year in and year out. It seemed no amount of homework and research he set could teach those unwilling to learn.

As they descended the stairs, worries began niggling at his mind. The same worries that began yesterday at the first suspicions of what was to come. That threat of the Heir of Slytherin he had faced as a Professor would be repeated while he was a student… that it should loom while Lily is still a student… Lily, his wife, a muggle-born, someone directly under threat by the doctrine of blood purity the legacy of Slytherin stood for.

He could not let her out of his sight and expect his own heart to settle. He could not possibly rest easy with the knowledge of what was coming, with the risk that something might happen, and that he had not be there to prevent it. Another lifetime of regret…

"About this evening." Snape began, already wincing for the backlash that was sure to follow. "You have patrol, do you not?"

"With Rawkas. One of yours I believe," she replied with an easy smile, oblivious to the mortal danger that loomed aroound her.

Snape almost worried his lip, a nervous habit of Lily's that he was fighting tooth and claw not to pick up by proximity. "Could I convince you to allow me to take your shift?"

"You could. When was yours again? Saturday?" Lily asked as she squeezed past a flock of Hufflepuffs, socialising on the ground floor landing of all places.

Snape grimaced as he followed her through the thick crowds. "I was thinking perhaps… you simply let me do your shifts."

Lily froze mid-step, causing Snape to almost careen into her. He braced her before he toppled her over, only to have his hands flung away. "Excuse me?" she demanded, her eyes wide with aghast and offence.

"I just need to know you're safe," he mumbled, knowing as those words left his lips those were not what she wanted to hear.

Lily's green eyes narrowed, causing Snape to instinctively withdraw half a step. "Look, mister. I get that you're a little tense about the whole Rosier thing, and I forgive you for freaking out a little today," She closed that half-step gap and prodded her finger straight into his ribs, "but if you think for a moment that I would step back and assume the role of some fragile little thing to be shut away, you are not going to be in for a happy marriage."

Without waiting for her husband to formulate a response, she turned on her heel with a great sweep of her red hair and marched down the Entrance Hall, parting crowds of those who stopped to watch the fracas. Snape stared after her, struck momentarily dumb by her response, before gathering his wits once more and following her out the Entrance Doors.

Those green eyes flashed again as Snape drew level with her upon the winding path leading down the castle grounds. "If you don't stop following me-"

"Please, just listen to me." He reached for her, only to have her snatch her hand away.

She did not stop, frustrating his efforts to reason with her. To make her see things his way. That her safety was far more important than her pride. She had promised not to risk herself unduly for his sake, so why couldn't she simply let him protect her?

 _She has no idea the direness of the danger she's in._ The realisation seeped through Snape's vexation. Had he only paused to consider this from the point of view of one ignorant to what was truly happening, to one whom dead chickens just meant an abhorrent act of animal cruelty… His efforts were inefficient indeed. She had no notion of what it is he was truly protecting her from.

"It's not Rosier I worry about." Snape barked, quickening his pace to overtake her. Lily hesitated a step, allowing him to step in front and halt her in her angry pace. "That's not why… why I'm anxious. I would not be so unreasonable as to believe you cannot hold your own against the likes of any of our peers."

Her red brow raised in disbelief, but at the very least she didn't interrupt him. There they stood, in the middle of the path from the castle to the grounds, straight in the middle of heavy afternoon foot traffic, having this very sensitive discussion.

"Please. A moment of your time," Snape beckoned, indicating the gentle slope off the beaten track, away from prickly ears and probing eyes. After another moment's hesitation, Lily audibly sighed and followed.

Picking their way through the small jumble of rocks that studded the hilltop, they settled in a cosy nook shielded from the view of the busy path. She chose to lean upon the boulder opposite to him, despite the rough jagged texture of its surface. Her ongoing anger was evident in the distance she chose to keep, distance that hurt him immensely.

Clasping his hands together, Snape gathered his words, weighing them carefully before he would deliver them. "I want you to… think on Sunday. The incident you attended by that shack that Hagrid calls home."

"The dead roosters?" Lily tilted a brow, sceptical from the outset. "Surely we're not worried about a chicken killer getting a taste for bigger prey? Because I can assure you I put up a better fight than a flightless fowl."

A grimace graced Snape's lips, knowing his explanation would be as graceless as the butchery that warranted it. "Perhaps… it is not as innocuous as you might think, Lily. Because it isn't what they can do to chickens that worries me, it is what the deaths of those birds mean."

"Yeah…" She frowned, confused and still unconvinced.

It hadn't been part of Snape's plan to reveal what he knew, a play to keep the current Heir in the dark. But whatever the need for surreptitious caution was overshadowed by his greatest goal. The one goal that brought about this second attempt at it all. There was no point in anything if he could not ensure Lily's continued survival. He will not let secrecy kill her again.

"Salazar Slytherin was not a pleasant man. He loathed those not of magical blood."

Lily rolled her green eyes. "Gee, I weren't aware."

Snape ignored the sarcasm and pressed on. "It is well documented that he had left the school over the ideology. Knowledge ever so pervasive in the doctrine of those that live under the House of his namesake. But what most did not know is he had left a threat. A… secret chamber, hidden in the bowels of the castle, in which he hid a dark beast. A creature that only his heir could control to carry out his foul ideologies and cleanse the school of those he deemed unworthy."

"Alright…" Lily frowned, seeming not at all convinced so far. Or at the very least, not seeing the relevance.

"There's been talk in the Slytherin dorms. Unsavoury happenings are…" Snape trailed off with a wince, tasting the bitterness of a lie that painted his own as dark souls once more. He tried again with a different angle. "I need you to know, Lily, that something similar to this happened once before. Perhaps about… forty years ago. The cockerels were killed, and only the male birds, and it was a prelude to something terrible that followed."

Snape had no real notion of how a young Dark Lord had prepared for the opening of the Chamber the first time around, but lie or not it was a better explanation than could be offered than simply claiming it all a random guess, and less distasteful than offering up his own housemates as a scapegoat. "A girl had died in the months that followed, a muggle born student. She was killed by a creature that was sealed within the chamber. A creature that… likely still lives in the bowels of the castle. Because it, and the person that released it, was never caught."

Lily stared, her mouth agape, evidently uncertain what to make of his claims. "And you think this might happen again… because cockerels died?"

"Cockerels were _killed_ , Lily. That was how it all started." Snape turned to pace in that narrow space, an agitated motion bourn of his frustration. He had spent so long weaving lies that truth was difficult. How does he convince her of a truth, when it sounded so much more absurd than any lie he had ever told. "Surely that is too specific a target for simple wonton cruelty. Too…" He winced, stopping in his step, doubled over in hunching frustration.

"What does the cockerels have to do with this girl's death, though? Why the cockerels in particular?" Lily humoured him, shifting to a smoother surface to lean on.

"Because what dark creature fears the crowing of a cockerel?" Snape growled, hoping Lily would follow his train of thoughts. Hoping could be convinced by his leap in arbitrary logic lest he be forced to explain himself to a sceptic that saw not the connotations.

But it seemed fortune graced this exchange, for Lily's eyes drew round. "Basilisk." She breathed, and all Snape could feel was thankful that he had married a woman who spent so much of her leisure time reading on topics not part of their curricular. There wasn't a single Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor in their school years that had ever touched upon the Basilisk, for no one within the British Isles has seen a living specimen for over two centuries.

"Salazar Slytherin was a Parseltongue, I remember that from 'Hogwarts: a History.' Does Parseltongue work on Basilisks? Because if it does, it would explain so much!" She gushed, positively excited. This was not the response Snape was hoping to elicit from her.

"I think it's safe to assume the king of snakes would fall under the umbrella of the founder's affinity." Snape muttered, as close to an outright confirmation as he could push without arousing suspicion.

But picking apart her husband's wording was the last thing the enthusiastic girl seemed to have in mind. "We got to tell everybody! We need to prepare!"

"There is no _we_. You have to keep out of the creature's reach." Snape could feel a vein throbbing at his temple. Her reaction was not settling his anxiety. Just the opposite in fact.

But happily contrary, Lily did not seem to be inclined to comply. "There is more muggle-borns than just me here in this school, Sev. If what you say is actually happening then it's more than just me in danger."

The spymaster stared for a moment, in absolute blank reluctance. This was always a possibility, he realised in hindsight. Gryffindors were prone to heroics in absolute abandonment of self-preservation and sense. He realised now that having Lily know the truth wasn't going to make protecting her any easier.

* * *

"Honestly, I thought it sounded farfetched at first too but the more I think on it, the more it all makes sense." Lily announced at the dinner table. The stares she was getting in return ranged from scepticism to thoughtfulness, and from some, bristling excitement. It wasn't just her friends listening to her explanation, but it felt like half the Gryffindor table had stopped, or at least slowed in their feasting to listen in on her wild basilisk theory.

"You really think this might be real?" Mary asked, worry marking her brows. She wasn't one to be taken by fanciful notions, but nor was she the kind to dismiss her friend's worries with an eye roll and a scoff.

"Sev had told me about some incident forty years ago that wound up getting a student killed. If this is what's happening… well better be safe than sorry right?" Lily glanced about the table, taking in the responses. Some had returned to their meals, but for a vast majority of them, the prospect of looming heroics stroked an air of excitement in those shining young eyes. This would be a point where Severus would inevitably make a comment about Gryffindors and propensity for peril.

Marlene frowned as she leaned upon her elbows to peer at her friend over her plate piled high with protein. "You really think some terrible dark creature is running 'bout the castle?"

"It kind of does make sense though doesn't it?" Lily smiled awkwardly, feeling unconvinced herself.

"Sure. Because chickens. Why not." She muttered uncharitably, sweeping the strands of hair that escaped her windblown ponytail out of her face and returned to her slices of roast.

Pandora, however, didn't look half as sceptical. "Moaning Myrtle. She's the girl you're talking about." Everyone's heads turned her way, surprise evident on all their features. "Xenophilius" The girl answered by means of clarified. "Nearly Headless Nick throws a Deathday party on Halloween every year, and he used to attend them to socialise with what he called 'the deathly denizens.' He knew all the school ghosts, and Moaning Myrtle in particular. She was a muggle-born Ravenclaw, got bullied a lot in school. She died in the first-floor girl's bathroom after seeing a pair of eyes emerge from nowhere."

Dark muttering rounded the table, this theory no longer so outlandish with input from such a grounded soul.

But Marlene remained far from convinced. "So we just gonna ignore the fact that the information came from Nutty-philius Lovegood? The dude that so famously protested Quidditch matches during each autumn season because it disturbed the mating grounds of some hogus bogus malogus that infested the Quidditch stands?"

"And used to wear butterbeer corks around Christmas for some unfathomable reason or another." Mary added uncharitably.

But the level-headed Pandora did not seem the least bit shocked by these assertions. "Add that he used to write daily fan mail to Newton Scamander, begging him to expand into research of creatures known only to cryptozoology. I am well aware of his eccentricities, you need not remind me." Pandora relented with a wan smile. "But I also know that his ideas all come from sources of deeply held beliefs of one soul or another. He may be… naïve, but he isn't a liar. If anybody has taken time out of their lives to socialise with the non-living, it would be him."

That challenging tone in Pandora's voice piqued Susan's interest in a way a great deadly snake never could. "Is this a crush in your voice I hear?" she positively squealed.

"I would prefer the term, fascination. He is a very interesting man." Pandora just about confirmed.

Even Lily couldn't help but lean over her plate of half-eaten bangers and mash. "So you're actually into this guy?"

"Concentrate, Lily. Evil Slytherin basement monster?" Mary called in a tone equivalent to that of yanking a leash.

"Right," Lily murmured, appropriately abashed by her own gossip hounding. "But yeah, I think I said everything I wanted to say about what it is. Salazar Slytherin, Parseltongue, dead cockerels. Got to be a Basilisk."

"What's this about a Basilisk?" James asked as he rocked up to the dinner table, fashionably late as he was often known for, though oddly never for dinner. He exchanged a quick kiss with Marlene before pulling up a plate and began piling it high with as many animals as he could comfortably spear with his fork.

The rest of his Marauders had rocked up to dinner on time, oddly unengaged with Lily's tales of dark creatures, more content to whisper quietly amongst themselves. They probably hadn't caught a word of what Lily had said by the blank looks they were giving their leader.

"What did he want?" Sirius barked quite aggressively, and a comment confusing in the context of any topic of conversation offered so far.

James, however, just regarded his best friend with seeming nonchalance. "Don't worry about it. I got it sorted." But that sentiment didn't seem to have the desired effect. Sirius returned to his beef and potato casserole, muttering darkly under his breath.

"Your boyfriend seems the jealous type." Marlene teased quite audaciously over her glass of pumpkin juice.

James swept his free hand through his hair, making that dark bird's nest stick up a little more aggressively. "And you're not bothered that I skipped out immediately after training and arrived at dinner late without explaining myself?"

"Something you want to confess?" Marlene arched her brow, a touch of nervousness ruining her grin.

But it was Sirius who answered. "He's cheating on us both with Snape." To which the entire table burst into rambunctious laughter and to James' eye rolling annoyance.

"He just wanted to talk to me about something," he muttered with a hint of distinct annoyance. "We're not enemies anymore."

Lily could not help but feel her hope pique at that statement. "So you've patched up?"

"Well… no. I don't think… no." She had never seen that confident boy look so uncertain. "I'm thinking… there really is no way to smooth things over with him."

"Well you did kind of string him up and pants him." Marlene pointed out, to Lily's utter horror at the reminder.

"Live and let die, I say." Sirius muttered without a shred of guilt over his own involvement.

"Again. Giant Slytherin snake monster." Mary called everyone back to attention, seemingly the only one able to keep focus on that quite dire topic.

Lily pulled herself back together quickly. "Right. Well you weren't here for the whole explanation, but here's the short version. Severus thinks there's a basilisk living somewhere under the castle, and that someone's going to try to use it to kill muggle-borns."

"Holy crap. Really?" It wasn't scepticism that underlined his exclamation, but a truly serious concern.

Marlene swallowed her bite of roast. "What, you're not really buying into all this are you?"

But unlike his girlfriend, James did not seem the least bit doubtful. "It's Snape. He might have the personality of a sack of daylight mooncalf dung, but he's not the sort I'd ever think that'd just make up a… basilisk. He's not the attention seeking type. Can't fathom any other reason."

"How about to get Lily to sit tightly under his thumb?" Marlene pointed out relentlessly. "Why not a story about a giant snake that eats muggle-borns?"

Lily sighed, leaning her fork against her plate to sink her face into her palms. Her friends had never been generous in giving Severus the benefit of the doubt, but he hadn't always deserved it. Things have changed since and he deserved a little now at the very least. And though Marlene's concerns were not without warrant, it just didn't seem likely.

Because Severus seemed genuinely scared. And unless he was as brilliant an actor as he was in all his other walks of life, it seemed to her that he truly believed what he was saying. That there was a threat in the castle, to not just Lily, but to all that lived within Hogwarts' walls.

* * *

Snape had walked Lily up from dinner, as she had promised he was able to without reprimand. Through that steady ascent, she had been oppressively silent. Deep in thought, he assumed, for the outlandish story he had unloaded onto her.

The Gryffindors at her table had been rather muted this evening. Their drop in volume was noticeable even from the other side of the Hall at which he sat. He could only conclude she had laid this story upon their table for scrutiny, and endured the no doubt mockery that would have followed such a proposition. Perhaps she was finding doubt where she had none earlier this day.

She bade him goodnight at the portrait hole, with a gentle smile that held none of his fears. He leaned in for a kiss, wearing the mask of seeming to be uncaring of what those who were passing might think, but starkly aware of every mutter that passed.

"I'll see you in the morning." She murmured to him, as they parted from their goodnight, all smiles despite the confronting day they had. Unfortunately, Snape could not leave the evening at that. His heart could not settle knowing that Lily would patrol the hallways tonight, even alongside a trusted known element of Slytherin. So he had an arrangement made with Lincon Rawkas that would settle his anxieties a little.

Snape was the patrol partner waiting for Lily when she descended to the Entrance Hall that night. A change, he knew from today's exercise in protectiveness, would not go over well.

The moment she drew close enough to recognise his features through the dim glow of green of his ridiculous sash, she demanded in a foreboding tone, "What are you doing here?" This would be a tense evening it seemed.

Snape could not help but avert his gaze from those green eyes, bright even in the darkened gloom of the unlit past-curfew evening. "I'm here as your partner on patrol tonight." he replied as he set off briskly to begin their route. A truthful statement, if incomplete. Something that the head girl did not let just slip by.

Lily jogged to catch up with him, falling in step beside his long strides. "This is ridiculous." She muttered as she lit her wand and settled into her duties, sweeping beyond the first door they came across. Snape felt confident enough to allow her to do so, knowing that even if the Heir would act recklessly and release the Basilisk before he took all his precautions, the creature would be very unlikely to appear within a classroom. It had used the plumbing during the previous time its villainy reigned, and every attack had occurred close to a pipe-facilitated region of the school, allowing the creature easiest access.

Failing all that, Snape, at the very least was well schooled in the use of Presence-Revealing spells, the human version of which he would often use to catch curfew breaking students. He used it now, pulsing it intermittently as he walked, reassuring himself no great dark creature would loom out of the darkened halls and take away all that he held dear. But all the spell whispered back to him was the little sparks of busy elves, going about their nightly efforts. Sweeping the rooms clean and disappearing with expert efficiency beyond that of any mortal human's capabilities. The only other strong inhuman presence sung to him from up high in a tower. More likely a phoenix, than basilisk.

They settled into their routine in silence, but Snape never once allowed her to take the lead. Despite being fairly certain that the creature was not yet unleashed, he would not gamble her life on it. Something that Lily eventually came to notice to her grand displeasure.

"It's going to be like this, is it?" She huffed, jogging to catch up to his long strides. Another recent growth spurt had granted him a foot and a half height over Lily. He was beginning to reach the height he possessed in his professorial years with perhaps another inch or two left to gain. He had drawn even with James Potter, a fact he noticed with great delight earlier today. Snape would never outgrow Sirius Black, but at the very least he would never look small beside Potter ever again.

Snape did not slow his step, as they rounded the corner, ensuring it was his wand that peeked around before all else. "Come on. This is getting silly! Stop!" She reached to for his hand and yanked hard. He stopped, but did not turn to face her. He could not face the anger he knew he would see in her eyes. The frustration he was stoking within her with his inability to tolerate even the smallest of risks on her behalf.

"Sev." Her voice came so gentle, so unlike the fury he had been expecting. "I know you're scared for me. I get it okay?"

"No you don't." He growled as he whipped about, his words invoked in a tone far harsher than he intended. Even in the dimness of wand light, he could see her green eyes grow round. Was it fear he saw, mingled with surprise? It would be so simple to know her thoughts, the temptation too ripe, but he withheld. The privacy of her thoughts would be one freedom he would never deprive her of.

But instead of withdrawing, shrinking away like so many he's burned with his temper, she reached for him. Her fingers tracing the contours of his angular cheeks, quieting the anxious fears and causing the shame to burn.

"I understand what it's like to lose someone I love. Recent expertise, one might say." She gave a wan smile, still able to smile despite the bleak topic. "If I lose you, I'll lose the only family I have now. So I get it."

But she couldn't possibly understand… How could she?

"Lily, it isn't the same at all." He muttered, prompting her red eyebrows to pinch into a frown, but she made no attempts to interrupt. "You once told me… should you lose me… you'll be sad. You'll cry. But then you'll move on." He shook his head. "That would not be me. There is no point to my life should you leave the world." _Not again…_

"Don't say that." She hissed. "It's not the end of the world. You could-"

"Nobody will ever love me as you do." Snape forced through gritted teeth, an admission that silenced Lily, for the truth of the matter made difficult an arguing response. "And I… I will never love another… as I love you." He laid his hand upon her shoulder, a gentle touch.

Lily closed her eyes, seeming to roll the words about her mind. "But…" She whispered, bracing her hand against his arm, and pushing him away with a gentle motion. "You can't let this fear rule your life. You can't let this fear rule _our_ life. Because I don't want to live for your fears."

There was a hint of apprehension in her voice, so faint, but so clear to him. She was fearful that this was an oppressive glimpse of their future. That he would never allow her to live by her Gryffindor nature.

And he felt so ashamed at the thought.

"I'm sorry." He murmured, turning away. He could not let go of the knowledge, of the fear.

The worst had already happened in his lifetime, scars that remained embedded in his soul. As they draw ever closer to that moment of reckoning once more, his anxiety darkened contentment and chafed him from within. He feared so deeply the loss that might come, how bitter life would become should everything be taken once more, especially now that he had a taste of how sweet things might be.

He wanted her to live, no matter what it cost him. No matter how much it would cost her. And he hated himself for it, because he knew she could never be happy living like that.

The sound of footsteps brought him from his own inner torment. From behind them came the footfalls of a fast approaching unknown. Snape moved quickly, almost yanking Lily off her feet in his haste to position her behind his readied wand.

But no figure emerged before the tell-tale steps, and Snape only had a moment to put this new information to theory before a hand darted out of thin air to wave off hostilities. "It's just me, Snape. It's James."

Lily yelped with surprise as Snape lowered his wand. "As opposed to every other student with access to an invisibility cloak." He scathed sardonically, annoyed how high this stunt had set his heartrate. He did not startle easily, but his nerves were on a wire. "Breaking curfew so brazenly, I see. Not even bothering to hide from the patrols anymore."

But not a hint of contrition touched Potter's arrogant features. He whipped off his cloak, more confident than any rule breaker had any right to be. But in his hand he held a scrap of roughened parchment, inked markers standing boldly upon that vile contraband. "The thing that you asked me to watch out for. It's happened, Snape."

And in an instant, the entire scenario changed.

Snape snatched the map from the Gryffindor boy's hands, his eyes searching that first floor corridor for any signs of human movement.

"He's already gone." James clarified with a sweep of his bed-matted hair. "Didn't hang out for long. He dashed back down to the dungeons before I could rush down here."

"He's from the dungeons?" Snape uttered, dreading the worst. The heir had been a Gryffindor the last time around, and some twisted part of Snape had hoped that a similar situation with an innocent bystander from another House might be involved. A vain selfish hope for the sake of a house that was finding its feet amongst kinder eyes.

"But he's definitely your guy. He went straight to Filch's office," the boy continued, to Snape's frowning confusion. "The old Crumugeon's currently shuffling about the fourth floor so he has no idea he's just been burgled."

"How quickly he must have procured his unlawful gains then, to disappear before you could lumber down to inform me." Snape noted, accidentally putting a compliment in his backhand.

Potter nodded, not even phased by that turn of phrase. "Yeah, in and out. Pro job. He knew what he was looking for."

Snape froze suddenly, his usually quite adept mind finally lacing together the last piece of the puzzle. For once his utter aghast was not directed at a Potter, but at himself. He should have realised this the moment Rosier emerged from that treasure hoard of contraband storehouse without a single misappropriated article upon his person.

He wasn't there to steal anything, he was there to hide it. And there was only one item associated with the Chamber of Secrets that came to mind.

"The name!" Snape hissed urgently. "I need the name!"

And for once, a Potter did as he was asked. "Avery. Your man is Alexander Avery."

* * *

A/N: I think this was the chapter I intended for people to start figuring out who Pandora is. Kudos to all of you who figured it out far sooner.

A/N: Update. I'm working through my scheduled update time. So for anybody searching for the next chapter, I'll be putting it up a day late. Unavoidable this time.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 15th December 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 49: For the Greater Good**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	49. For the Greater Good

**Chapter 49: For the Greater Good**

Snape paced that familiar stone floor, wearing a path he knew so well during the last year of his previous life.

"I do insist, Severus. Take a seat," Dumbledore urged gently from his own majestic chair. "I know this is distressing to you. But we must wait."

"Wait?" Snape hissed, planting his feet in an almost tantrum-like stomp. "We know its Avery! Why are we not acting? What are we waiting for?"

Silence answered him, but the heavy burden of knowledge lay before him without needing an answer. There was only one reason for waiting…

"You would risk the lives of your students for access to a basilisk and its venom?" Snape asked with creeping realisation as his eyes clouding with dark rage.

Dumbledore folded his hands, his bright blue eyes staring calmly from behind his half-moon glasses. Not at all the constitution of a man just accused of risking innocent lives for his own gain, nor that of a man who would deny it. Calm acceptance was the only way Snape could describe the headmaster, and it only served to enrage the younger man further.

"You swore! You swore to me you would not put her in danger!" Snape roared, slamming his fist upon the desk, setting the teacups rattling on their saucers.

Dumbledore dipped his head in acknowledgement. "And I still intend to follow through to the best of my ability."

"Best of your ability? Not acting upon Avery… that constitutes the best of your ability?" Snape was utterly aghast. He knew Dumbledore had a hands-off approach when it came to his students, but to go so far as to apply that philosophy to their safety…

"Severus. Let me ask you. What happens to the students that leave within the next two years?" Dumbledore asked in a solemn tone.

That was a baited question, because they both know what happens. "Most survive," Snape replied with a curl of his lips, not appreciating this emotional manipulation.

"And what will happen to the students that remain, should another such heir ever appear?" Dumbledore asked, as calm as anything. "One that we're not as prepared for."

"You expect me to believe that you are risking your students now for a hypothetical situation that might never eventuate?" Snape ground through gritted teeth.

The headmaster dipped his head in acknowledgement. "It is true. It is an awful risk. But I would rather we face it now, while we hold all the cards in our hand, than risk a second emergence with every element unknown."

"And that is the only reason you are choosing to wait?" Snape sniped, knowing all too well of ulterior motives afoot.

Dumbledore leaned back. "I will not deny that I wish to obtain basilisk venom from the source. And nor would I deny that this had a hand in my decision." His blue eyes seemed to harden in a way Snape could not quite place. "I had expected something similar to this vein of happening when I brought low Avery's father the months prior. I knew Tom would not leave this insult unpaid. I expected retaliation, and I expected him to strike me at my most vulnerable… at my students. But you allowed me to expect that he would do so with the weapon I knew he had forged but never deployed."

"So that was why you saved the Proud family. Not for any simple acts of insular altruism," Snape muttered as he settled into the seat opposite. "Using your own students as bait."

Those blue eyes grew distant as those great bushy brows knitted in discomforting thoughts. "Perhaps I am as you describe. Able to do terrible things to find victory in this war. And justify all my actions by the greater good to be gained." Dumbledore brought his hand to his grand beard, stroking the length in a slow contemplative motion. "I have spent the better part of a year now attempting to track that diary, even reaching so far as the belly of the Malfoy manor, the last place the relic had been in your previous life. It seems Tom hasn't yet honoured the Malfoy with the diary and the task."

"So you chose to provoke the event? How very Gryffindor a notion," Snape sneered.

But Dumbledore was not the least abashed by the reprimand. "And should I have taken the Slytherin method of inaction I would risk far more in the form of lives of students past and present. Had I simply waited, the result then, would be the same. An ancient dark creature invoked to hunt my students, while I least expect it, as lives are lost in attrition."

"Then the plan would have worked beautifully should you act now," Snape hissed. "The diary is here, we know who holds it. We capture it and destroy it."

"And should Riddle find a way to smuggle in another heir, what then?" Dumbledore asked calmly.

"Do you expect him to have a child?" Snape sneered.

The headmaster smiled, also taken by that unlikely notion. "Or create a new magical method to pass on Parseltongue. It would not be the first time he's crafted an impossible spell. You yourself are capable of unaided flight, a power inherited from a lifetime yet to exist."

"A lifetime that will never exist," Snape snapped, but calmed as he acknowledged the truth of this assertion. Destroying the diary might not end the tyranny of the Chamber of Secrets. There was every expectation another incident might crop up another few decades down the line.

But by then Lily would be safe, far from this menace.

He had accused Dumbledore of ulterior motives in all this, but Snape stood the most hypocritical at that point. He would risk the lives of everyone he knew, just to keep Lily safe. But he did not live without care for the students, not when the purpose of protecting them had been the driving force of his world for so long. The terrible year that preceded his death, he had only this one purpose to sustain him.

It was also true that this arrangement made for the cleanest strike they could have against this lingering menace. Knowledge, coupled with surprise, made for the most powerful weapons against any force. For now the heir was acting as if he believed his enemies ignorant of his existence, and the looming threat. He was at the most vulnerable he could possibly be, for confidence made men predictable.

But the risk they would wear…

The risk to the only woman he loved…

"What would be the purpose of keeping that ring intact?" Snape finally ventured, weighing the choices laid before him. "Am I correct in guessing you believe it to be useful in the war to come?"

A strange weariness came to the headmaster's eyes. Slowly, he shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

Anger bubbled in Snape's heart. "And you ask me to risk everything I have, for your own personal reasons?" He could not believe such selfishness.

"My motivations for the ring's procurement are personal. That I will not deny. A selfish reason at best." Dumbledore bowed his head, an offer of contrition Snape had never thought he'd ever see from the likes of Albus Dumbledore.

Snape turned away in disgust. "Spare me your talk of safeguarding your students. You do this for your own personal motivation. You risk my life, _Lily's_ life, for your reasons!"

The silence that answered him was perhaps the most telling of all. The truth of the matter in all. The reason this Basilisk would be given course to run rampant, would be for the very purpose of this ring that had no bearing on the war at hand. To risk the lives of all these students… all these lives, for personal reasons?

"And when you spoke to me of fearing of a future encounter with the heir, was even a word of it true?" Snape hissed.

Dumbledore dipped his head in a firm nod. "I had not been lying. I truly believe the potential of harm for the beast's continued existence." He had the gall to continue this farce.

"Then I would rather take the risk of a future attack, to be done with the crisis now," Snape snapped, enraged by Dumbledore's admission. But the knowledge sat with him that his own choice had nothing to do with finding the optimum outcome, and all to do with protecting what he had.

Those blue eyes that watched him so, turned away. A paranoid prickle at the back of Snape's neck told him it was disappointment he saw in those blue pools, but he had long learned to see disappointment everywhere he looked.

"Perhaps you do. And I would not blame you." His blue eyes did not waver, no longer holding any such contrition for the selfish admission he had given. "But I would ask you to consider this. The personal reasons I seek this ring, has everything to do with my past.  
Everything to do with my regrets… those regrets I know you understand."

The anger in Snape's heart quietened in the face of the chill that passed through it. Thoughts he had not touched for a long time came unbidden to mind. Remembrance of memories that had long faded from his dreams, and with them the realisations that came about the man before him. Mistakes that Albus Dumbledore had made in his youth had carved rivers of regrets for that man as well. The dead sister held within his arms, love for a man that would destroy so much, foolish mistakes made by a foolish youth. A familiar story that clawed uncomfortably close to Snape's own tattered core.

"I don't ask you to do this for sympathy for me, Severus. But I ask for your understanding. I too seek peace from my failures, and though I have gained a measure of it for the life I have led, I find I cannot let go of this one last foolish wish." A rueful smile peeked through his grand beard. "I believe you are correct that my judgement upon this matter cannot be trusted. I leave this decision to you, Severus, for you have proven yourself able to see clearly and act righteously despite your own desires. A claim I stand unable to make in this matter," Dumbledore confessed as he uncrossed his fingers and laid his hands flat upon the table. "But should you choose to take this chance on higher stakes, I must ask you to prepare yourself. You had once asked me to warn you should I ever have cause to risk your life. I warn you now. Because if we are to kill this Basilisk, it would be you who I ask to take the fore. And you who would bear the greatest threat of this encounter."

* * *

Lily could only stare with upraise eyebrow at Severus as he started and slammed down the lid to a small unadorned wooden box. True that she had entered his laboratory without even announcing her presence with a knock, but it didn't warrant such a response. The way he almost jumped out of his skin made Lily think he was hiding something scandalous, which would honestly surprise and amuse her by equal parts.

"What do you have hiding in there?" Lily ventured with an indecent grin. Knowing all too well how likely Sev was to answer.

"None of your concern," came his predictable reply as he sealed his box with an honestly humorous number of wards and protective spells and slid it into a subtle gap between the jars on his shelf. She wondered if he thought that would really keep her from sneaking a look. After all she was the Charms specialist, including that of warding and ward breaking, and until quite recently enjoyed a comfortable lead over the all-round boy genius in the subject.

She couldn't help but smile as she slid closer towards him, straight into his comfort zone. "C'mon. You can tell me. I won't laugh," she lied, already on the verge of bursting forth in giggles at the ridiculous thoughts that came to mind. Everything from trinkets to butterfly collections passed through her mind, even salacious possibilities in less than innocent contraband, all equally likely to elicit such a sheepish response from the boy. He was so easily embarrassed.

But oddly, he didn't rise to the bait. Instead of devolving into the shy habits that came with his discomfort of averted gazes and muttered responses, Sev met her eyes coolly and delivered his own inquiry. "Why is it I find you traversing the dungeons alone? Had I not made it clear to you I wished for you to prioritise safety above all else?"

 _Oh phooey._

"It's just the dungeon path to your lab, Sev. I've walked it a bajillion times," Lily remarked with a wave of her hand as Severus' eyes narrowed.

"Far less than that, I would have you know," Sev responded, nit-picking as he did. "And in times of far lessened worry. Have I not imposed onto you the severity of the crisis that might be unfolding within our school walls? And yet you insist on venturing out alone, without seeming cause nor care of my silver hairs."

"You don't have a single white hair you drama queen." Lily rolled her eyes and stepped back to a respectable conversational distance. It seemed she had somehow lost her charm over her dear-husband. Perhaps marriage had lifted that particular veil of mystery. "And I get it. You have the jitters that there's a great terrible snake running about the castle that wants to eat muggle-borns. But honestly, Sev. Do you expect me to shut myself into my tower and refuse to come down until I'm escorted?"

From the glower she received, it seemed that was exactly what he expected of her.

"Oh come on. We both know there is no way in hell that I'd agree to that. I would go batty within hours into that sentence." Lily wandlessly conjured a stool to perch upon as she gave a dismissive shrug. "Besides, brewing season is upon us again, and it's my turn to start the potion."

"When have we decided that?" Sev asked with a frown, seeming genuinely concerned that he might have forgotten a scheduled event.

But Lily let his concerns off gently. "Just now. I've decided to come down to the labs on Saturday to commence this vital portion of work, and if you do insist on me bringing an escort, I warn you. You will have unsolicited visits from Gryffindors day in and day out."

Severus closed his eyes as he released a long-suffering sigh. His greatest weakness. Excessive socialisation from members of a house that almost prided itself for not respecting personal boundaries.

"No? Well then I'm afraid we're back to our classic arrangement," Lily quipped with a victorious grin.

Sinking into his own stool, Severus ran a hand over his thin face. The light that caught his face, combined with that motion that spoke volumes of unseen exhaustion caused Lily's grin to falter. She hadn't noticed the pallor of his skin, nor the darkness of the rings about his eyes, just a shade more pale and darkened respectively, but a minute difference she couldn't not take note of.

Lily stepped forth from her conjured stool to approach the flagging boy, turning his face with a touch to better see the ravages of stress in the dimmed light. "My goodness, are you really so concerned that you're worrying yourself to exhaustion?" she almost tutted.

"I have… a lot on my mind," came his non-committed mumble, his pitch-black eyes taking on a weary glaze.

"Do share," Lily prompted gently. "Is it really about my running about without precautions really tying you in a knot?

"It's part of it…" Sev murmured as he leaned his head into her hand upon his cheek. Though their relationship had changed, she never knew him to let his guard down, even with her, without true emotional strain. The last time had been when he said goodbye to his mother…

"I can get Marlene to walk me down here…" Lily relented, cringing as those words fell from her lips. She would have to endure her best friend cuss him out for the entire duration. Lily felt a tendril of distress curling at the thought. It felt like a terrible step towards a long surrender.

But to her surprise, Sev shook his head. "No… perhaps you're right. I am… being too paranoid." A smile touched Lily's lips as Sev fixed his weary dark eyes upon hers. "The last cockerel's not even dead. Why would anyone risk a most valuable creature so recklessly? That would be rather… foolish… for Slytherin's heir."

"You were about to say 'Gryffindor' weren't you?" Lily quipped lightly, teasing in tone.

"I wouldn't dream of it," he muttered dryly, but the barest lift in the corners of his lips conveyed more sarcasm than any eye roll ever could.

Lily ran her fingers through his hair, teasing the thick strands as she felt his tension ebb. "Have we solved your current crisis then?" she asked with a sweet smile, enjoying the way he looked when he closed his eyes and relaxed against her touch.

But then his eyes opened again, a strain etching itself under his eyes. "Not… entirely."

She peered curiously into his darkened eyes, urging him to continue with a gentle but playful tug of his hair. But no amusement broke through his darkened façade. Only stony contemplation. "… I was simply contemplating… life."

"Well that's vague. And an oddly philosophical use of your time," Lily quipped with a lopsided grin. "Are you turning into a romantic on me?"

His dark thin brows pinched as if he found the thought mildly insulting. "If you must mock me-"

"No, no, not at all. Please do go on." Lily released his hair and sat back and crossed her legs together in imitation of patience. But she could already see her misstep into humour was ill placed once again as he seemed to withdraw where he sat. She almost gave up hope of receiving an answer when he finally spoke, a low muted tone.

"It's hard to believe… only a year ago, we started on this path together." His words took on a sentimental tone. "Had we not… how different my life could have been…"

A smile came unbidden to Lily's lips. He really sounding the utter romantic. "Bit late for any second thoughts on this side of marriage." She teased lightly, eliciting a small smile from his stony façade, but that too faded.

"I was exceedingly lucky to have had this chance, Lily. You cannot imagine how lucky I was..." He trailed off, a statement to which Lily thought was a gross underestimation of her ability to imagine. It was never a certainty that they would wind up on the road they did, and for the longest time, the idea of which would have been unimaginable. But now that they had, she could not feel things could have turned out any other way. Not with the sudden and incredible change upon him. A newfound nobleness that had captured her heart.

"I don't think it could have happened any other way," Lily murmured, laying her hand softly upon his cheek, feeling the smoothness of his angular cheeks. But the look in his dark eyes seemed to tell her he believed otherwise. This lonelier life he was imagining seemed to almost glint off those dark pools, this future that would never happen. "There's no point in twisting yourself over 'what ifs.' You're with me now, Severus. You found yourself back into my life and now we're married. Stop torturing yourself over hypothetical failure."

Another smile broke through his dark continence. "I know. And I am grateful." He touched his hand upon her own, pressing it against his cheek. "But I cannot forget… the hopelessness of regret. A prison of the mind that I could not escape from."

"And here I thought you were studying sensibly. Turns out you're wasting time on frivolous exercises on anxiety," Lily quipped, resisting this depressing topic with every fibre of her being. He was going to make her feel guilty for casting him from her life, temporary as it was. But she had good reasons for doing it then, or so she thought. Had she spared him from the pain of uncertainty, could things have turned out the way they did? Would he have changed the way he did?

His expression did not turn sheepish as she expected her jokingly pointed words to turn his mind. Instead his black eyes blinked once, then turned away, his hand releasing hers. "I was simply thinking on the pain of regrets long past. I apologise if I was making you uncomfortable."

Lily sighed and reached out with both hands, taking his chin between them to literally hold his gaze. "You're right. I don't want to think about that time either. You don't understand how much it had hurt me to do what I did then. I felt I had to at the time. You've proven me wrong since, and now I feel like crap for doing it to you. You're not helping with your sappy sorrowful remembrance."

That smile returned, the tenuous one that hung between existence and the imagined. "I am not blaming you for it, Lily."

With a huff, she stood to pull him close. "I'm sorry for putting you through that regardless… I wished things turned for the better before it had to happen."

"No blame lies with you, Lily. The foolishness was mine. That was all on me," Sev muttered, his breath hot against her neck as his thin arms enveloped her waist. "I am thankful for the second chance. I do not know what I did to deserve it."

A tired chuckle tumbled from Lily's lips, mirth that twisted from her heart when her emotions did not know what to do with itself. "It was your noble heart, Sev. That is what made me fall in love with you. And that's why you deserve it."

* * *

His noble heart, she had said…

Nobility was not a quality anyone had ever noted before. Certainly not himself.

It was not his nature to put the needs of others before himself. If his actions had ever seemed otherwise, it was because his needs were that of his duty. The promises he had kept to a woman who could no longer hold him to it. It wasn't nobility that drove him, but if that was the quality that brought him her heart, he would not dissuade her otherwise.

But he had to confess, her words cut to the core of his current conundrum. The choice laid before him, the decision he was tasked. Should he act now and postpone the danger to the school and minimise the danger to himself and the one he loved, or to hedge his bets to eradicate the danger in its entirety?

The decision had haunted him in the hours since he descended from the Headmaster's Office and drove him to the isolation of his laboratory. It had enticed him to the Focus stone he had forged from deathly memories, to hold the relic and gaze about the ruin of his true self.

The danger of future attacks was not prominent, he had rationalised with himself. So long as the diary was destroyed, there should be no real reason as to how the creature could be released again. But that was honestly an 'if', for there should never have been another incident since the Dark Lord's own departure from this institution, and the insidious man had found a way around his own absence. To say that the future was secure by the destruction of this one path to the chamber was naively optimistic. However, even so, he had all but decided to disregard this. The school's future welfare was no longer his concern. This lifetime was his own, and he was no longer shackled to its fate.

But that brought his decision to another piece of uncomfortable contemplation, and that was Dumbledore's admission. How the man sought a non-destructive method of neutralising the ring Horcrux as a means to ease his own regrets.

Up until this lifetime, Snape had never thought the man to have ventured a direction wrong. The dreams had informed him most assuredly otherwise. Albus Dumbledore had as much to regret as any man that ever walked this magical earth, perhaps more. And though he had lived a long life, perhaps enough to atone and come to terms with his past, his regrets never truly settled.

This ring, it seemed, held a significant purpose to the headmaster. An artefact that the old man seemed convinced could somehow ease his regrets. A goal the old man had almost been willing to risk lives for, but stopped short of committing to the decision himself.

A sentiment Snape understood intimately, for until most recently he had lived his regrets as his reality. Had he a way to ease that pain, no matter how obscure, he would have stopped at nothing to obtain it. Not even the prospect of harming his charges, or those he would call friends, would have given him cause to hesitate.

Perhaps that was the greatest difference between him and the likes of Albus Dumbledore. The old man found a semblance of peace with himself by leading a life of altruism and activism, while Snape could not find it in himself to claw out of his pit of self-pity enough to offer a thought to anybody else.

It was perhaps only now when his life took on a more satisfactory tone could he find it in himself to reflect upon another. To understand that the regret of past mistakes was not wholly his own to pity. That one such as Albus Dumbledore had walked this path and their grief had not chained himself so single-mindedly. But even a man such as he could not ignore the prospect of a path from his regrets, but he could only bring himself so far as to leave the decision in the hands of another.

As Snape held the stone, glaring darkly at the foul mark adorning his weathered forearm, he dwelled darkly upon this decision. He had every right to act selfishly, to protect what he had now regardless of any hypothetical future trauma that the school might occur, and the potential easing of the pain of another.

Of the man who had given him a chance when he had nowhere else to turn. A man who had demanded everything from him to win this war. Who forced him to fight for things he did not care about. A man who had tried, and failed, to make him walk the path of a better person. A path that had perhaps been the key to easing that man's own regrets.

But Snape had been gifted a chance that Albus Dumbledore had not. His own regrets was diminished by the love of the very person he had wronged, and he knew how lucky he had been. And how easily he could have been denied all of it and laid to the ground without ever tasting a day of happiness, or relief.

Empathy was what he lacked as a professor, and a human being. A bitter man who would not venture far from his own core. But as happiness thawed his frozen heart, decisions such as these was not as simple and clear cut as they were before. He could not remove himself from his actions, and he could no longer shield himself from the cuts of another's pain.

The troubled thoughts would not leave him, even as he sat in the Slytherin common room preparing to encounter Avery. To bring this matter to its safest, most logical conclusion. But as the boy entered through the hidden wall, pale and withdrawn, refusing to look up as if he feared to meet the eyes of those around him, Snape could not muster the will to act.

He willed himself to close his eyes and continue this path, hoarding his happiness as was his right. But he knew it was no longer in his nature to do so. That somehow, despite never intending to, his own path had diverted.

Lily had said that she loved him for his noble heart…

Perhaps in this, he needn't lie to her.

* * *

The role of Head Girl had as much responsibility as an enforcer, and as a role model. So Lily couldn't help but feel guilty as she found herself sneaking off from her scheduled Hogsmeade patrol to rendezvous with her friends at a small bar at the inconspicuous end of the town. In her defence, however, she knew Severus to be more than capable of handling matters by himself. Never had a head boy been more gifted with the knack to predict and curtail trouble before its finished brewing.

Lily simply needed a break from it all every now and then. Hogsmeade had once been an exciting break from the routine of daily life, though life at a magical school could hardly be called monotonous. And it wasn't that she hadn't put in any work at all. She had already spent an hour in front of Zonko's Joke Shop confiscating contraband from its student patrons, much to their grumbling displeasure. Then an incident at the Three Broomsticks Inn called for her attention. It seemed Sev's Slytherin friend Urquart had finally gotten tired enough of Susan's advances to reject her on no uncertain terms. The hysterical girl ran out in tears, leaving the poor boy stewing in silence and the butterbeer thrown in his face.

This was to be her last visit to Hogwarts before graduation as this was the last trip she could indulge before the Easter Break and the subsequent exam spirit after school's return. She didn't want to spend the day chasing down troublemakers, not when the Head Boy enjoyed that activity far more.

She had hoped to include Severus in on the activity, but knew it was pointless to even try. The boy had just about proven himself adamant on the course of rules and the following there of. This was all's more the pity as she had found their time spent together dwindling in the face of unspecified responsibilities he'd ghost away several times a day to undertake. Once she tried following him and made it as far as the seventh floor before he discovered her on his tail and he proceeded to abort his plans. Lily gets that he's a private person, and that she really should give him some space, but Gryffindors don't deal well with curiosity or boredom.

It was with this vein of thought that she had made arrangements with Marlene and the Marauders. To enjoy a few hours of irresponsible revelling in Hogsmeade as they once had before duty took Lily away. And for whatever reason, they had chosen to hold this get together in this tiny run-down dive at the edge of town named the Hog's Head Inn.

She paused at the doorway, wondering if she even had the right place. The windows on the side of the building was so dirty she couldn't even peer through it. If it weren't for the lopsided sign, she might have taken the establishment for a badly maintained storage shack.

Thankfully she wasn't left to hesitate for long as a rap at the window alerted her that someone inside could at least see her through the smudged panes. She could barely make out the form of a hand waving to and fro, beaconing her in.

She didn't need to be invited twice, and without another thought, Lily entered through the roughhewn doors only to be greeted by the shocking sight of a piercing blue set of eyes glaring at her from behind the bar counter.

"Professor Dumbledore!" She uttered without thought, eliciting a scowl from the man in a manner most unlike her kindly professor.

Immediately James was at her side. "She didn't mean that, Aberforth. Sorry old pal." To Lily, however, he leaned in with a terse warning. "Try not to offend the old goat. You get kicked out once and it's likely a lifetime ban."

"How was what I said in any way offensive?" Lily grumbled as she followed James to their table of friends, not difficult to locate as it seemed it was the only table currently occupied.

Marlene shuffled her stool over to give Lily space in that cramped area, indicating the glowering bartender with a tilt of her head. "Lily say the big D-word?"

"Oh yes," James replied with a cool ruffle of his hair as he dropped onto the stool opposite, between Sirius and Remus. "Literally the first impression she made."

Everyone at the table winced and it was all Lily could do to glance about in confusion. Sure on second glance it was oh so obvious the barman wasn't Dumbledore. Though his eyes were that same shade of piercing blue, his hair and beard was stringy and grey and there was something distinctly goat-like in his appearance. Perhaps it was simply first glance when she first stepped from the brightness of a lightly clouded day into the contrasting dim gradient of a bar with mostly obscured windows. The more she looked at the man the less he resembled the first glance.

"Quit staring, you might get us thrown out," Sirius muttered in a low tone, a surprisingly deferential attitude from the usually quite cocky boy.

"He's the only bartender that'd serve the hard stuff to students," Marlene whispered to Lily's unasked question, prompting the girl to round on the other prefect at the table with upraised brows. Remus could only sheepishly shirk her look with a quick draw from his suspicious tankard.

James didn't look the least abashed. "We're all eighteen. We can drink as we like."

"But Madam Rosmerta still refuses to pour for us." Sirius reminded him quite sternly.

The two boys exchanged a grimace as Marlene turned to Lily. "Want one?" she asked, indicating her own glass of miscellaneous contraband.

"Certainly not." Lily could already hear the earful she would get from Severus if he even whiffs the tone of alcohol on her breath. He had become an incredible stickler for the rules in recent times. One daresay being head boy was suiting him.

"Well then get a butterbeer then you wet blanket," Sirius drawled, as he drew shamelessly from his frothing glass.

That would have been a preferable idea, had it not been for the uncomfortable realisation that she couldn't afford to spend recklessly any longer. The ten Sickles and twelve Knuts that rattled about her coin pouch was everything she had on her, and with the profits made from the sale of her house after mortgage and solicitor funds were deducted, her sum total sat uncomfortably light in her Gringotts Bank statement.

"I think… I'll give butterbeer a pass to. I got to watch my spending," she mumbled, feeling herself reddening.

James' dark brows knitted together with concern. "Didn't your dad leave you anything?"

"He did. He left me a house. But I had to sell it… what's left of that has got to keep both me and Sev going until life settles down," Lily sighed, reality biting harshly as those words left her lips.

Marlene glared at her in utter disbelief. "Wait what? It can't be all on you surely. What's he contributing to all this?"

Lily didn't answer. They all knew the answer, there was no point flogging that dead horse. Severus Snape had not a Sickle to his name, and that was not what she married him for. But the realisation was beginning to sink in how difficult their lives were going to be once school ended and they were set upon the wider world. No more free meals, no more free accommodation, it would be just the two of them, struggling desperately against their dwindling resources.

It made it all the more clear she couldn't afford even a single stray Knut unaccounted for.

"We'll manage. Somehow." Lily put on a brave a face as she could. She was beginning to understand why Sev frowned so much.

"Well it just won't do for you to be the only one left out here. A round of bubblies on me." James announced, standing from his seat.

With objections on the tip of her tongue, Lily was stopped by a bracing hand upon her shoulder. "Just let him," Marlene sighed through a barely contained smile. "He's got coin and he gets antsy if he isn't allowed to part with it.

"Doesn't get the least bit under your skin how quick Prongs is to buy drinks for another girl?" Sirius prodded with unneeded antagonism.

To which Marlene barely scoffed. "If he were a closer breed of philanderer as you perhaps."

"Can't tie this much masculinity down. I have to be shared." Black winked at Lily with a wolfish grin, a little too confident with his own wild good looks. "Since me mate's not after you no more, if you wanna try a bite I'm more than offering."

"I'm married," Lily responded with a withering glare.

Without an ounce of shame Black waved that fact off like it was non-consequential. "Yeah, but to Snivellus. Can't imagine he'd be doing it for yah."

"You're such an unbelievable arse," Marlene snorted with a shake of her head as Lily found herself struck momentarily speechless with a mixture of mortification and rage.

Thankfully it was at that moment that James returned, a collection of tankards levitated to the table in a neat cluster. "Hope everyone's thirsty again." He grinned as he set his precious cargo down onto the scratched and grime smeared table. But as everyone set about collecting their glass, he winced as if just remembering something. "Shit. I forgot you weren't drinking alcohol, Lily. Let me reorder-"

"Don't bother," Lily huffed, reaching for a frothing tankard. "I need a properly stiff drink after all that vileness."

"Only a properly stiff drink?" Black snipped back with a wink that set Lily's skin crawling.

James shot his best friend a warning glare as Remus shot her an apologetic smile and Peter burst into a fit of inebriated giggles. Lily glowered as she took her first draught of the frothy brew, wincing at the lukewarm bitter taste as the bubbles flattened upon her tongue.

"Oh ignore him Lil's. He's such a crass bastard even when he's not smashed," Marlene remarked with a shrug.

"I'd rather not hear it. This didn't used to be a problem," Lily muttered into her drink, still trying to get used to this unfamiliar bitterness.

But Black just didn't seem to get the hint and wrap things up. "It's not like I couldn't tell you're all kinds of good looking, even if your personality sucks absolute rot. Still, can't compete against my best mate. He wouldn't have stood a chance."

"Poor delusional Padfoot. That's your last drink I think." Marlene shook her head with a loopy grin of her own, as if she found the whole situation amusing.

Black however, didn't feel the least bit contrite. "Naw. Still got plenty more to give. Fill 'er up will yah, Prongs?" he asked as he drained the last dregs of his only recently filled mug.

"I think if you want any more you should be getting it yourself." James replied a little tersely, to which Black, even a half-sloshed, managed to pick up.

"He's still into her. You see that Marly? You see?"

"I think you need to sober the hell up," Marlene snapped, suddenly no longer in a jovial mood. "And leave Lily the hell alone. Don't you see she don't want none of your innuendos?"

Black turned an upraised eyebrow upon the ruffled girl. "Don't tell me you have the hots for her too."

"I can't believe Mary thinks you're alright," Lily muttered with a shake of her head.

Black seemed not in the least abashed. "Hey the bird's got good tastes, and she knows how to share. Which reminds me what's the status of her and Truman? You know, that Hufflepuff?"

"That's old news mate," Marlene supplied in between her gulps. "She's already moved on to some Ravenclaw guy"

Sirius winced. "Damn. Missed my window. So you want a go, Lily? You know, to know what you're missing out with saddled with your gremlin of a husband."

Peter suddenly snorted loudly, breaking down into a fit of hissing giggles, "Innuendo. In-your-end-o." he slurred, fairly late to the topic, before hiccupping once and falling backwards out of his stool.

"Yup. He's had enough," Remus observed in an even tone, nudging his own half-sipped glass to the middle of the table. "And I think we would all be wise to take heed of this lesson. I'm done too."

"Well after this mind-numbing exchange, I don't think I am," Lily announced with a growl and reached for her fellow prefect's unfinished pint, pushing her own empty glass pushed to the side.

It was perhaps a drink too many in hindsight as Lily made her way back down the main street of the Hogsmeade main road, trying her best not to appear as if she had been drinking. It seemed a trivial task, one that she accomplished daily when she actually hadn't been imbibing, one that she felt she was accomplishing quite successfully.

Until she ran into the very man she knew would disapprove of her little stunt the most.

"Have you been drinking, Lily?" Severus asked the moment he laid eyes on her. _How on earth could he tell?_

"No," she lied, quite proud her voice came out perfectly enunciated. She only had the… three drinks. In the span of an hour. She wasn't so forgone. She could walk straight and everything.

But Sev seemed to know the truth, because darn it, he was too clever to trick. "It's against school rules to drink, Lily, even if you are of legal age. You know this." He insisted, like the straight-laced stick in the mud he was.

"Can I convince you to look the other way?" Lily winked, drawing close to him, only to have him take a distinct step backwards.

"You've convinced me." He muttered with a tilt of his head to the direction of the castle. "I'll finish the patrol. You get back and sober up. I can't handle you when you're like this."

"Oh? I hadn't realised you could handle me at all." Lily almost crooned with a wink. "I must up my game."

"Please don't take it as a challenge," he sighed, but she could see the smile edging around his lips. He was disappointed in her, but not to the point where he couldn't enjoy their flirtatious exchange.

With a smile and a wave, Lily took her leave and headed back to the castle. By the time she arrived the sun was setting behind her and she was beginning to feel mighty drowsy. Unfortunately she realised there was one last article of duty she had yet to finish.

Wolfsbane. That constantly present duty to her curse-ridden friend. Lily had begun to take on an equal proportion of the duty in this area, having had a hand in making each of the steps of the brewing process. She could even take on the nightly maintenance duties without supervision now, but somehow that felt ill advisable at the moment. Though she felt herself steady and her mind light but clear, her own potioneering instincts, her friend's vitally potion felt like an unideal sobriety test.

But still, it felt like an incredible lapse of responsibility to simply skip out on tonight's duties and leave it all to Sev. There was only so much irresponsibility she could shamelessly flaunt.

However, even as she settled in the lab, into her usual conjured seat, she floundered for something to do when she knew the potion was off-limits. Then an idea came to her, a curiosity that had been haunting her since she first spotted it the week before.

She turned her eyes to the shelf at the back of the room, fixing them upon that little wooden box hidden among the equipment, warded with more than enough spells to stoke the curiosity of any bored Gryffindor.

* * *

It was all that Snape could do not to belt down the dungeon corridor the moment he felt his trespass ward tripped. Someone had not thought to check for silent detection wards when untangling the myriad of complex spells Snape had though sufficient to keep intruders away. But after decades of losing supplies from his personal potion stores, he should have expected not to be so optimistic about the resourcefulness of even dunderhead students.

Snape burst through the heavy oak doors of his laboratory, wand out and ready to face this brazen trespasser. He should have guessed it could only be Lily, even before her wide green eyes flitted upon his pointed wand, her lips parted in surprise, and his deathly Focus Stone held lightly between his fingers.

With a hiss and a flick of his wand, he flung the stone from her loose grasp, allowing the substance to clatter harshly across the stone floor. He felt anger burn hotly beneath his collar, fanned on by the chilling fear of what she might have seen. The ruin of his true self that the stone would reveal.

The twisted features of the man she had actually married.

But instead of questioning everything she must have seen, a sheepish smile flitted across Lily's face. "Whoops..." was all she said. More embarrassed to have been caught, then to have committed an offence against her husband's privacy.

"What did you see?" Snape demanded urgently, not trusting her innocent flippancy as an indicator of calm seas.

She winced at the tone of her voice. "A pretty black stone… and a pretty angry husband…" she winced as she bowed her head and murmured into the front of her robes, seeming to realise she crossed some sort of line with her nosiness today.

Snape frowned as he peered questioning at the contrite girl as he summoned the stone with a flick of his wand. The room immediately shifted, turning the air into that dense undeniable monochrome, brushing the beautiful girl standing before him with a bright luminous glow that cut right through the thick colourless dark. It was not something he couldn't not notice, and he could only frown with confusion at the girl who stood before him.

"Did anything change when you held it?" He continued, perhaps pushing his luck but he had to know now that the question has been raised.

She glanced up, her green eyes seeming eager at this civil line of inquisition. Perhaps hoping she was in the clear with her blatant rash of recent misbehaviour. "Umm… No? Should something have?"

After a moment's hesitation, and deliberate consideration, Severus held out the stone. Offering the piece wordlessly in an experiment that warred with his fears. "If you feel anything off, anything at all. Drop it immediately." He ordered solemnly, only to have her sweep up the silvery black stone without hesitation or start. The world returned to its dim vibrant colour palate, as the now non-glowing red headed girl turned that mysterious stone in her hand, peering curiously with wide-eyed anticipation.

Snape tugged his too short sleeve, carefully ensured his forearm properly covered. "Anything?" he ventured cautiously.

Her green eyes lifted from the stone, resting upon what should have been his wizen features. "Umm I think its warmer."

Snape's dark brows met in a frown, thoughtful now the concern had passed. He took the stone back, feeling the hollowness settle upon his senses. The colour washed from the walls surrounding, the candle flames burned a dull flickering white, the red bleeding from Lily's hair. His weathered hands grasped the stone, scars and calluses he didn't earn in this lifetime etched along his fingers, his nails chipped and worn, and no doubt yellow had colour been emulated.

And yet Lily noticed none of this.

"I had feared the worst when you held this stone, for I created it with an untested property at its core." Snape offered by means of explanation, turning the silver laced shard of darkness between his calloused fingers. "I still do fear the worst, Lily, because you have an insatiable curiosity and seem to display not an ounce of caution or forethought in your actions."

The shimmering monochrome girl gave a hesitant grimace. "In my defence, I had been drinking."

"That is never a defence!" His words lashed from his tongue quite harshly, and he regretted his tone the moment it formed. Words and intent that had been for another breed of irresponsible drinkers. Lily too felt the brunt of a sentiment intended for his parents, seeming to wince as if physically struck.

Silence stretched between them as Severus turned away, unable to muster the words to retract the barb in his words. He dropped the stone, drawing his breath in deep as colour returned to the world, bringing a shimmer touch to Lily's bright green eyes. Tears perhaps… hurt for his sudden flare of his black temper.

"Sorry…" he murmured, glancing away. "I was… not…" He had been annoyed by her reckless curiosity, actions that could very well lead her to knowledge she simply cannot have. But he had known her nature since the day he fell in love with her, knowledge he's held for two lifetimes. She had the curiosity of a cat with half the sense, and too much courage for her own good. Her youth combined with her nature seemed to paint the world so consequence free. To have stuck her face into the Pensieve before she even knew what it was, to be behind every door whenever there was conversation to be overheard, to have fallen in love with a man who wasn't any good to her, who cannot bare true the ruins of his soul.

"No. You're right," Lily conceded with a sudden huff and deflation. "I shouldn't have been drinking today. It was stupid of me. And I should have remembered… your parents."

"-Are not you!" Snape stated firmly, his black eyes fixing her shimmering ones. "Don't ever believe that I hold you to the distain I hold them. I would never ask you to abstain from experience… only to follow through responsibly."

A smile shone through, whisking away the tears that might have been forming. But he could not help himself from opening his mouth and wiping away the settling peace between them. "Though I would appreciate it if you were a tad less nosy about my affairs."

"Excuse me. We're married." Lily's brows shot up as her pretty lips twisted in disapproval. What an innocent notion of the whole ordeal she must have if she thought marriage wiped away the secrets.

"As we are. And our lives will entwine far more intimately now, I'll give you that," Snape offered, verbally back stepping. "But… privacy is still a part of my nature, as I'm certain curiosity is yours. I ask that you ask me about your bugbears, rather than place yourself in mortal danger to uncover it."

"Aww but that's half the fun," came Lily's reply, hopefully with a lack of seriousness as indicated by the smile that was edging her lips once more. Then she leaned in suddenly as if taken by a thought, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well since you offered, I need to ask. Where do you keep running off to just about every day?"

Snape stilled, suddenly regretting everything he had just said. This didn't have anything to do with knowledge he could not reveal, it was simply a matter of supreme embarrassment. "I go to… the Room of Requirements." It was a truthful offer, but incomplete, and he should have known it would raise more questions from her than answers.

"For what?" She pressed on, evidently enjoying every second of this.

Snape settled himself, taking his words close to the truth through the route of least embarrassment. "I needed a room to practice… powerful spells that need containment."

The answer was far less exciting than she likely imagined, for the curious amusement blinked straight out of her wide green eyes. The truth was, he had been preparing himself to face the dark creature that was coming, and to do that he needed to condition himself in body and spell work. He took note of the training regime he was given during the days of his decent, methods that held relevance outside the army of darkness.

While not wholly embarrassing a notion in itself, the fact that a large portion of it involved physical fitness was not something he would be willing to admit for fear of seeming as if he was attempting to emulate the muscle heads in Gryffindor.

Stamina was such a necessary quality for anyone with a hope of surviving prolonged combat, even for the most dextrous of duellists such as he. A quality he had lost in the later years of his life due to lack of dedication to his form. But this was what he must develop if he hoped to survive his encounter with the Basilisk, an event he has already determined will be earmarked upon this lifetime. He had chosen the harder path with the better outcome for the highest number of people, but he intended to give himself the best chance to survive it.

So he could live a life his heart had wished for, before his mind had ever decided on a wish.

"Have I sated your curiosity, Lily?" he asked steadily, summoning his crystal box from her side of the table.

"Yup, you pooped that party flat," she replied with a solemn nod. "So you gonna put that crystal back in your terrible hiding spot?"

Snape hesitated upon closing the box, her words grating upon his anxious spirit. "I would rather carry it on me… but unless I wish to risk my hole-lined pockets I do not think that's the better option.

Lily barely rummaged about her pockets when she pulled out an empty drawstring pouch. "Carry it in this then."

"Just happened to have a spare moneybag on you did you?" Snape muttered dryly, but not ungratefully.

"Yeah, was totally prepared for the day when you would have enough to finally fill one," she snarked dryly, and likely without ill-intent, but she winced at her own joking flippancy and quickly offered a less pointed explanation. "It was my back up moneybag. It was supposed to hold a few Galleons because dad and I figured we can't go down to Gringotts too often. I used the last of it to pay for our wedding."

Snape had offered to sell his Gold medal made of true gold to cover that wedding. She had refused of course, citing she'd take care of it, and that his medal was symbolic proof to the world he was amazing. Admittedly it would have made a good impression upon the job hunt. But in the end, that meant he relied on her to cover the entire cost of the ceremony. Another mark upon his life marred by his lack.

But Lily shared none of these disparaging thoughts while shoving the pouch quickly into his hands as if she feared he might refuse. "Now you can just carry it, and never worry about nosy busybodies like me stumbling onto it."

"A pouch that shouldn't have been empty, then," Snape muttered as he accepted his cargo, eliciting a wincing grimace from the girl who had given up so much to be with him. And to this day he could not fathom why.

Never had an empty pouch felt so heavy.

* * *

Easter had arrived, and with it the sudden diffuse of heat and humidity. Clouds were thick and heavy with rain the day the carriages left with the students bound for home, and Lily felt loneliness keenly as she watched them go. She would have been one of those who left, back when she had a family and a home to return to.

But her home now, was no more. Sold to settle debts she never knew she had, and to pad out a bank account she never knew was so meagre. Her father's death changed her entire world, and every expectation she had of it. At the very least she still had family, and she did not need to go anywhere to be with him. Severus signed on to stay, as he always did, and for now she could not be more grateful that there was still family she could spend her holidays with.

Returning to the coolness within the castle walls, Lily breathed out a pent up sigh, for relief for the slight dissipation of that suffocating warm mugginess, and to unsettle her unsettled heart. She did not want to enter the breakfast hall looking miserable, not when there were so few students left and she could not hope to get lost in the crowds.

But as she entered the grand chamber, so too did Hagrid, busting through the main doors from just behind her. She had to quickly sidestep to allow his hefty form through, any greeting dying upon her tongue from the dark look that plagued his shaggy face.

And in his massive hands he gripped the limp bodies of seven mangled cockerels.

* * *

A/N: Snape is probably the only person that doesn't see Lily as Harry version 1.

A/N: A day late. Apologies. I work pretty intense all-day shifts. I don't get a chance to do anything but eat and sleep on my work days.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 29th December 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 50: The Chamber Opens**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	50. The Chamber Opens

**Chapter 50: The Chamber Opens**

Within seconds of Hagrid's startling appearance, Severus was by Lily's side, concern upon his face. "You must go now. Go up to your dorm and do not come out under any circumstances," he urged, as he pulled her from the hall.

"Wait, wait! What about the other kids?" Lily glanced over her shoulders at the dozen or so that remained behind, most of them from the younger years, none of them with a clue of what might be transpiring.

But Sev did not stop, nor did any words of concern fall from his thin lips. "So long as you're safe."

Lily dug in her heels and wrenched her hand from his grasp. "Severus Snape. If there is a clear and present danger as you say, then there is no way, as a Student Leader, that I could flee to safety while leaving everyone else behind."

Sev rounded on her, his dark eyes flashing with frustration. "And how are you to convince them to do as you say? Herding the young is like herding cats. Tell them of what is coming and I guarantee you at least half of your feckless Gryffindors will be off scouring the hallways for sign of present and looming danger."

His oh so generous assessment of the survival instincts of her Housemates was unflattering, but not entirely incorrect. However, where Sev excelled in cunning ability, he lacked in social knowhow. There was more than one way to herd cats, and chasing them was the least efficient of the lot.

"Leave it to me, Sev. I'll get everyone to safety, alright?" Lily promised, and before Sev could object she returned to the Great Hall and announced loudly. "Party up in the Room of Requirements within fifteen minutes! Every student invited. Just because we're not going home for the holidays, doesn't mean we can't have some fun!"

The atmosphere livened immediately, bright eyes of the younger years widening with excitement at the prospect. The stone was rolling for the likelihood of getting everyone swiftly into a contained and safe environment. Now all Lily had to do was send a doe down to the head Elf in the kitchens and request some simple party foods be sent up. They were usually quite accommodating, never begrudging any student of requests within their scope of achievement.

Only the older years, the seventh years in particular, looked as if they needed a little cajoling. Susan and Pandora both stayed behind to put their noses to the grindstones, isolated from similar distractions of home and hearth, but as Gryffindors they probably still could't turn away from a good dose of socialisation.

"See?" She turned to Sev with a wink as already the youths were clamming towards the exit. "Catch more cats with milk than with a sack." A smile touched his lips, perhaps impressed by her ingenuity, but before she could dash off to finish the last leg of her task, Sev caught her and brought close for a sudden and unbidden kiss. Unexpected, was the word, and in view of all in the hall. Not something she would have ever thought Sev would do.

But as he parted, there was an odd hint of sadness in his eyes, fear perhaps for what might happen, and sorrow for the loss that fear had already convinced him was certain to be. With a gentle hand upon the back of his neck, Lily held him close, touching their foreheads together as she met his dark eyes with a smile. "Hey come on. No worrying. I'll aim to stay safe, I promise."

And with that she pushed away and headed for the grand doors, following the torrent of other kids headed up the stairs. "You gather your Slytherins and convince them they're invited. I'll see you up there, alright Sev?"

Those dark eyes hardened as he gave one stiff nod, before she was swept out of sight by the bustling crowd.

* * *

Lily's idea was efficient, Snape would concede. She had lured a good majority of the kids away with the promise of joviality and community. Several of their numbers were left, mostly older students in particular the Ravenclaws, likely eager to set themselves into their studying fervour. It probably wasn't to be a problem as sealing themselves away to study in the library or common rooms was probably about as safe as they could get outside the room of requirements. She doubted any beast could get past Madam Pince and her vicious dedication to silence. But perhaps it was fortunate nobody would have to find out, for the headmaster at least had the foresight to close the library for the week of the holiday, driving the students and teachers from the first floor and procuring the clearest stretch of hall possible lest Snape fail in his attempts to nip it in the Chamber.

Mulciber was the only fool left sitting pointlessly in the Hall, still staring forlornly at the empty seat where his Gryffindor infatuation had sat. The girl had left with her companions along with the horde of eager children, out of the way of present danger.

"Lily had asked me to ensure that the Slytherins know they're invited. Though considering how quickly the others had left, she likely meant just you," Snape offered to the boy as minimum effort to this one duty. He could not allocate more time than this, not when he had to prepare himself for the task to come.

Snape's hand grasped tightly about the ebony handle of the wand in his pocket. Discretely he flexed his fingers, trying to loosen his locking joints. Tension thrummed through his body, so familiar, yet so foreign to this lifetime. The tension that came with the looming prospect of endangerment, the subtle strain of muscle and mind that came with courting death.

A familiar friend in another life. A familiar tone to this old mind. Once he had even welcomed the prospect it might bring, for his last life had been hell, and death would have been a relief.

But no more.

Never had his life been worth so much to him. A future he so wished to experience, to persist. The tension this time held fear. True fear from his pattering heart.

"Decide as you will, Mulciber. Go, don't go, doesn't matter," Snape muttered to the still reluctant boy, unwilling to allocate any more of his precious time to another's predicament. "Just be prepared to live with your decision, and don't regret what you reap from cowardice."

And without another glance back, Snape swept out of the hall and steeled himself for what was to come. Lily had asked him to meet her upstairs when he gathered the stragglers to weather out the calamity to come, but that would not be in the fates. For if there was to be an end to this peril, it must be by his hands.

Dumbledore had left this morning for the Alchemical conference, or so he had claimed. But truth was they had conspired for his disappearance to entice the heir to act. To narrow his window of opportunity to ensure he'd be at his most predictable. To ensure Snape his greatest chance of survival.

He did not know how much of this all the old daft man had informed the rest of his teaching staff , but it could not have been much by the looks of how calmly they took the revelation of the dead birds. He could not imagine the likes of Minerva McGonagall sitting so calm when danger knocked to claim her cubs, nor the motherly hen Pomona Sprout or mentoring Flitwick. Danger loomed, also for every member of the teaching staff, but Snape had not the capacity to allocate worry to them. Should anything happen to any of those Professors, men and women he had once stood by and taught with…

Those that stood against him during the last moments of his life.

Well that sin would hang upon Dumbledore, not Snape, for it was he who had decided not to involve those pillars that hold up his school, for fear of their actions breaking secrecy. A sacrifice he knew the conniving old man to be more than capable of making.

To ensure secrecy, Snape was the only one tasked by the headmaster to end the great beast. A plan they had discussed ad nauseam. An event that was unfolding too quickly for his liking.

Snape had to calm himself, else he would be worn too thin before this encounter would even unfold. Exhaustion did not begin at the first notes of battle, but at the roiling tension that claw at its approach. He could not afford to waste stamina on fear, he had to calm himself.

He flexed his fingers as he mounted the stairwell that lead from the Entrance Hall to the Grand Staircase, shrugging the tension from his shoulders. His blinks became long and deliberate, as his mind's eye conjured the image of the grand creature, extracted from the mind of the twelve year old boy who faced it. His imagination, combined with his visual memory conjured the creature's great serpentine head, and estimated where its eyes would be, and how far its fangs might strike.

This was to be a battle fought without visual aid if he wished to survive, and it all came down to his ability to predict and react. He could not look the creature in its eyes, for the glare of a basilisk was fatal to any that meet it.

He could already see the effect the creature's presence had on the school, for movement scurried about the walls. Spiders left their cosy webs, hung high about the stone ceiling and within corners that would have remained undisturbed. They scuttled for windows and cracks, straining to escape what they knew was coming. Wiser than he, perhaps.

His foot landed upon the first floor flight, feeling the weight of fear bound down upon him, bowing his back as tension screamed through his limbs. With conscious effort he pressed down on it, and stepped into the corridor, closing his eyes and casting his Detection Spells as he did so.

Immediately he felt it, a grand dark creature unfurling deep far beneath his feet. His heart pounded loudly in his ears as he watched it through his magical senses, sizing up the length of the creature, and the power it must possess.

It was little wonder why it was a Gryffindor that slew the beast in his previous life, for no child of any other House could possess the sheer arrogance to believe themselves capable of such a feat. He supposed the grand irony would be that he, a Slytherin, the most level-headed of that lot, was doing just that.

"I did say the Filch's Office didn't I?" Snape's eyes snapped open, only to find a wand pointed towards him. Rosier stood calmly before him, wand levelled to his heart. "Despite your efforts in procuring my cooperation, you didn't seem to pay my words much heed."

"Rosier. I would have thought you had fled to safety considering what lengths you had taken to be clear of the creature's path before it even emerged," Snape all but crooned.

The boy's hooded eyes narrowed. "So then. You have figured it out."

"A basilisk, beneath our feet. Am I wrong?" Snape remarked, his own wand gripped loosely in his grasp. Despite the age and experience that divided them, Snape did not give in to confidence. Rosier would become a duellist of incredible prowess, such that he was even able to take a piece of Moody in direct combat, though that had been his parting gift to the living. It may not be years before the boy could claim even a portion of that potential, but Snape had no doubt if it came to conflict, he would suffer for it for when he encountered his true opponent. Attrition was the greatest enemy. But thankfully Rosier made no immediate move to attack, apparently content to simply hold Snape in place for now. Though this was a stand-off that had to be resolved, and soon.

"Knowing what you know, Rosier, should you not be hiding away?" Snape offered in a testing tone, watching the boy's occluded eyes for any outward response. "The common room seems as safe as any. I do not believe it to be Slytherin's best interest for his beast to maraud upon his dungeons."

A smirk graced the boy's lips, but it contrasted with his eyes in a manner Snape could only describe as reluctant. "Nothing would please me more than to tuck away and wait this one out. But when you receive orders from _him_ , well… independent decisions become unwise."

"What orders are they to be so… suicidal?" Snape drew out the last word, emphasising it, trying to remind the child that obedience might not be his best option.

"That I stop interlopers." Rosier replied, his wand shaking in his tensioned grasp. "That I stand a damned guard dog and risk life and limb while Avery plays host to his word. He's being drained dry from the inside out, did you know that? Punishment for his father's mistakes," he sneered, eyes flashing menacingly, perhaps with true concern beyond himself. "Why did you not take heed of my advice to begin with? Why did you not investigate Filch's Office and be rid of that damned book? It was that artefact that progenerated all this, that dark item that held the word of _his_. I was instructed to hide it for fear of investigation into the dead birds uncovering its discovery, but you were not very thorough in your responsibilities were you, Snape?"

Rosier did not wish for this path. He was a reluctant pawn in all this. Much like another too-eager Slytherin child Snape had once known. And he too would be a victim in it all.

Why did he not take that easy road? This could all have been prevented, had he not thought to act the hero. The allure of total victory? The prospect of warding against future threats?

To seek peace for another who needed it?

"I can stop this," reasoned Snape, his voice low and even. "There needs not be any bloodshed. There needs not be any loss of life. Just step away and head for safety."

Those hooded eyes narrowed, unswayed. "And should you trump the beast? Then what? I face my master and explain to him why you were allowed to do so?"

But Snape pressed on, banking on Slytherin reason. "If I stand triumphant, what reasonable mind could believe you could have possibly have succeeded in obstructing me?"

Silence stretched between them, as slowly those hooded eyes softened. A smile finally broke upon that pale face, and with a nod Rosier finally withdrew his wand. "Point taken, Snape. I was but an insignificant bump on your path."

* * *

Those minutes wasted, mere moments as they might have been, had been significant enough to render a Chamber assault unviable. Snape stood at the gaping entrance behind the shifted sink, eyes closed and feeling the slow rumble of the dark creature towards him. He could not enter and hope to slip by the thing undetected, and fighting in cramped piping was not ideal against a creature whose bulk could fill it. He would have to face the creature after it emerges, and hope all had taken heed to keep clear of these halls.

He stepped back, feeling the dark creature move slowly beneath him, turning from its benign incline to a steep climb. With a deep drawn breath, Snape slipped off his wedding ring, feeling the small but significant tug that told him of Lily's presence, fade away from his senses. He could not afford the barest distraction when his eyes could not be used. He slipped that ring into the pouch upon his belt, just inside the flap of his worn robes, the same pouch that Lily had gifted him. He had taken her advice to carry his most precious stone on him, and as a result it had become his most trusted pocket, as all the ones that came with his seven-year-old robes had long been worn to obsolescence.

He could feel the creature climb past the underground labyrinth of the dungeons now, following the vast underground pipes through Slytherin territory. Snape stepped out of the brightly lit bathroom, and readied himself in the poorly lit hallway, laying a Disillusion spell upon himself, rending his form harder to see. The spell prickling across his skin like an electric crackle. It was not perfect invisibility, and he did not know whether the creature relied upon its sight for more than just efficient murder, but at the very least he hoped to impede the ability of the human companion that was no doubt emerging with it.

For the heir to maintain control, he would need to be in earshot with the beast, and that likely meant Avery would emerge alongside the creature, and with one pulse of the Human Presence Detection spell, he could see Avery ascending upon the creature's crown.

The sounds of scraping scale echoed from the gaping entrance, reverberating within the bathroom and setting Snape's nerves alight. He pressed himself against the stone wall, wand gripped as he fought desperately to unwind his tension. Committing to battle never used to be this hard, but he had never fought for anything so precious before.

Then the thump sounded, of a great weight landing upon the stone tiles, and Snape knew, even without his Detection Spell, that the creature was only ten feet away. Close enough to hex it, should he turn into the bathroom, close enough to land the first strike.

But impatience would be costly, and if Snape were to face it on a level playing field he would have to rely on his own strengths. And patience was one of his greatest.

He heard Avery's voice sound from within, a twisted hissing issued from his throat. Parseltongue, as he had once heard it in another child's voice. He felt the great creature uncurl from the stone tile floor, its scales scraping harshly.

The creature's great snout emerged. He could feel its breath, cool and fowl, spilling into the suddenly too narrow hallway. Snape tensed, but this time he did not unwind, this time his tension haled for preparation. For he counted under his breath, the length of the creature emerging, waiting for the calculated moment.

For its great yellow eye to level with his wand.

 _Incendio!_

A great spout of fire gushed forth from his wand, bathing a blanket area before him in flames, burning all that it touched. The great snake hissed in pain, its great bulk coiling inwards, lashing at the top of the arched entrance to the girl's bathroom. His eyes opened, and in that moment of optimistic uncertainty he met the creature's scalded socket and knew he landed a blinding blow. But he could not take a moment to satisfy himself with that cheap surprise advantage.

Immediately the human voice rang out, harsh hissed orders to the convulsing creature. A creature that still possessed one deadly eye and all of its envenomed fangs.

Snape leapt back before the basilisk could gather itself, turning on his heels to dash madly for the turn in the corridor. The floor beneath him rumbled as the dark creature took pursuit, its bulk gaining ground fast.

 _Sectumsempra!_

Snape flung the spell over his shoulder, catching the creature in painful surprise, and causing it to miss the turn and barrel into the wall as Snape dove at the turn. It had passed so close Snape had felt its great fangs catch on his robes, his sleeve hung torn and tattered from his thin arm, the gash stretched down the entire left side of his robes. As close as call as any.

Fire issued from Snape's wand, bathing the great coiled mass before him, hoping to catch its second eye by serendipity while it lay stunned by the blow of its headlong rush and its own following bulk. It writhed in response, coiling defensively to protect its precious head. The smell of scorched hair filled the air as its keratinous scales scorched under Snape's assault.

With unexpected suddenness, the basilisk reared up from its defensive position, and for Snape to screw his eyes shut and scramble backwards at its sudden motion, but instead of striking at him, the creature fled back down the hall from where it came, leaving behind blood and charred scales.

Snape stood still, tracking its motion with his Detection spell, confused as to what the creature was doing. It coiled into the safety of the bathroom, and lay there, as if waiting.

Waiting for an order perhaps.

But too late did his thought turn to that of its master.

Snape's wand flung from his hand as his eyes snapped open, in time to be knocked hard into the stone wall. Avery stood before him, diary in hand, while the other levelled his wand against his floored opponent. Snape pushed himself unsteadily to his feet and felt the press of the wand tip to his throat. Had this been only Avery, Snape might have risked physical combat against the boy's untested reflexes. But this wasn't Avery he was facing.

He could recognise those cruel eyes, even from the visage of another. There was no mistaking the Dark Lord's presence in the boy.

"So it is a Slytherin that defies my basilisk?" came Avery's voice, coupled with an unnatural purr. "How unusual… and foolhardy."

But then the hand holding that wand tremored, that snake-like stare from eyes it did not belong to flickered. "Obey!" came the hiss from Avery's serpentine voice as he seemed to struggle with himself.

Without waiting to see what would arise from the boy's struggle against possession, Snape lashed out, launching himself at Avery and using the surprise and his newly acquired height to knock the boy unbalanced and causing him to drop the diary. He hissed in rage as Snape fell upon the book, tearing at its pages in an attempt to harm the spectre.

"Crucio!" came the dreaded cry, before Snape's world lit up in a white hot pain.

Snape's body was wracked with agony never felt by this young form, but reprieve found him as suddenly as the pain, and he lay panting upon the floor. The diary he clutched was prised from his losoe fingers as he struggled to his knees.

"Curious." That voice sounded ponderous. "You act as if… knowingly." Avery stepped before him, stooped to meet Snape's eyes. "Severus Snape, was it? You have a place in this boy's mind. So aware of you, he is. So fearful." He felt that great well of power beyond his mind wall, the overwhelming force of the greatest Legilimens that ever walked the earth. But with a deliberate blink, Snape forced that probing will away, the strength of his Occlumency breaking the probing intent upon its iron will.

Laughter met his ears, Avery's voice twisted with the madness that possessed him. "Young talent. What inspiring potential." The cruelty gleamed in the boy's eyes, a gleam not his own. "A truly terrible waste."

Snape braced himself but the torture tore through him easily, fogging his mind as a scream escaped from his throat. No memory could prepare him for this pain no matter how frequent their association in the past.

"You could have been something, Severus Snape. Talent was always welcome at my side," that demonic voice drawled. Though the pain lifted, the words could barely piece the veil of lasting agony.

Snape curled up in foetal position, his hands clasped about his spasming torso. He could feel the lingering pain clawing at his twitching muscles, his whole body pulled tense, unable to muster the energy to even pull upright.

But as he brushed against the tear in his robes, his hand came in contact with a pulse of power. His deathly focus stone had been torn loose from the safety of its pouch and hung exposed. Weakly he grasped it, without really knowing why he did so, and what he had intended, and immediately the world shifted into that now-familiar monochrome.

His breaths shortened, heart slowing in mockery of calm. His cramping muscles loosened such that he could shift his head, and cast his eyes upon his assailant. Avery, appeared before him no longer. Instead a dark shadow overlay his young features, the cruel visage of a familiar tormentor shone from a far younger and still human figure. Yet still grotesque in vision and in mind. And within his hands was clasped that diary, emanating the foulness that seeped through his body.

Without know what compelled him, Snape mustered all the energy available to him, coiling his fingers about that stone, and struck out as hard as he could at the vile man before him. But he didn't touch the dark spectre, his stone not aimed for human flesh, instead he stabbed the book that the fiend held, square onto its leather-bound cover.

Snape didn't know what his pain-addled mind had expected, but certainly not the scream that issued in Avery's voice. The dark visage of the spirit possessing the boy dissipating from the hole of light that was punched into his centre, the very same hole that had crumbled away from the darkness about the diary, around the stone that touched upon its leather-bound surface.

The touch of the Focus Stone transmuting not the physical properties of the diary, but the otherworldly aspect. The dark soul that clung to the artefact dissipated from both book and boy, leaving both suddenly and miraculously untouched by the foul magics that possessed them.

Snape dropped the stone, with a clatter, gasping for breath as the sights and sounds of the real world came crashing back. Avery hung limply against the wall, conscious but visibly dazed, and Snape had been content for them both to simply exist there for the moment in order to slowly gather their wits. Only, there was a pressing concern that could not be ignored. The sound of scales grating upon stone woke the boys to the impending danger, sending Snape to his feet with a heartfelt expletive. His entire body screamed against the motion as pain wracked his very breath.

"Close your eyes, Avery!" Snape commanded, to which the boy only stared up at him gormlessly.

Without another moment's alternate thought, Snape sent a blinding curse the boy's way, striking the sight from his eyes. With a panic, Avery clutched at his darkened orbs, but was not given longer than to panic.

The great beast slid into their hallway, filling the corridor with its bulk. Snape faced it with his eyes clamped shut, cursing its one unobstructed eye. He pushed his body to move, every step causing his muscles to scream, but he could not engage it in this hallway.

It struck forward, with such speed that Snape almost hadn't the time to fling a door open and dive in. He did not know how the creature would regard Avery, he had to trust it could not tell the difference between the boy's mortal form and the master who had recently commanded it. But Snape wasn't given long to ponder as the basilisk turned its great serpentine head to the door, shifting brick and mortar to squeeze into that ill-fitting space.

It knew Snape's scent, and it was intelligent enough to feel vengeful for the injuries wrought.

Panic was not in Snape's nature, but the realisation that he was trapped with no plan clawed at him, pulling tense his hurt wracked body. He ducked behind the Professor's desk, the sturdiest barrier he could find, every movement painfully slow.

He heard the sound of stone cracking, the door giving way to the bulk of the snake. With a vicious hiss it struck out at the desk Snape hid behind, splintering every student desk that dare stand in its way.

The great smash reverberated the floor, Snape felt his heavy barrier shudder, the terrible sounds of cracking meeting his ears. The creature reared back and struck again, this time its fangs piercing the heavy liquored oak wood, splashes of venom dripping from its tip onto Snape's tattered robes in a hiss of corrosion.

In a last ditch effort, scraping through to the dredges of his maddest ideas, Snape pointed his wand from the eroding shelter of his desk, to a chair strewn on its side. With a desperate push of magic, the furniture disappeared, only to be replaced by the likeness of a living, breathing cockerel.

The creature ceased in its assault, as Snape watched with bated breath, hoping the creature would be fooled. And then he felt it, the rumble of the great serpent struggling to escape through the too tight doorway, retreating under the threat of the pseudo chicken.

Relief flooded Snape as he stood from his shelter, transfiguring several more items into a flock of life-like roosters, directing them forward to chase after the retreating beast who slithered towards the turn of the corridor leading back to its bathroom sanctum. However, but it did not turn into its sanctum, instead fleeing down the winding corridor to escape the flock of perceived pursuing roosters.

It was an entirely too ridiculous turn about to this battle, but Snape was in no shape to derive any amusement. He limped in the opposite direction, passing the whimpering form of Avery. The boy was uninjured, and the blindness was temporary and with the diary's influence defeated, he should need no immediate attention. No doubt the noise would lure Madam Pomfrey from her Hospital wing, and if so Avery would be discovered in due time, owing he could end this battle before the snake chanced upon her.

He hurried against his screaming muscles to reengage the snake before it could wreck further havoc. Without the influence of its master, its purpose is now unpredictable.

His body screamed out in pain as Snape pushed on, one foot after another until he reached the doorway to the Grand Staircase. There he planted his feet and waited for the form of the creature to complete its circuit of the hallway. It had slowed in its movements, possibly due to tiring, or perhaps taking a reprieve as it freed itself from the far slower pursuit of Snape's false-roosters.

As the creature's dark form approached the turn, Snape levelled his wand to the corridor keeping his eyes clamped shut. A great hiss greeted his ears, a warning that the snake had set its one good eye on him with recognition. He felt the creature slither forward with gathering haste, its immense scales scraping along the stones.

Snape flicked his wand forcefully with his silent curse. _Sectumsempra._ The spell struck the creature, eliciting a roaring hiss but not slowing its immense bulk in the slightest.

With a swift side-step, Snape stepped out into the stairwell, feeling the creature strike and miss inches behind him. With a great rumbling shudder, the creature struck the floor and writhed where it drove itself into the stone. Snape did not allow it a moment's reprieve, flinging curses through the doorway and harassing the blighted serpent.

With alarming quickness, the creature righted itself. Its grotesque head fighting through the archway, cracking through the tight stones. Snape dashed blindly into the railings as the creature coiled to strike. With a swing of his wand, Snape struck out the railing, sending a cascade of marble to the floors below, and flung himself from the ledge as the Basilisk struck at him. Only to catch thin air as it overextended through the shattered barrier, and finding no hold as gravity took hold of its massive bulk, sending it crashing down the stairwell.

A fate that Snape avoided through the power of unaided flight, the only gift of the Dark Lord he had been willing to keep and thankful to receive. He peered down cautiously at the still form of the colossal snake, hoping that the fall would be enough to finish it, but knowing even before he witnessed the first stirs of life that it was too much to hope for from such a short fall.

Snape set himself down upon the bottom flight, stumbling as his muscles screamed in protest of that imperfect landing. With leaded feet, Snape planted them wide, levelling his wand against the creature that was slowly returning to function.

He felt his wand tremble, his every sinew screaming in protest against every movement. His Cruciatus-touched body was giving out as his adrenaline ran to its end. He did not know if he could muster the strength to bring this hard-fought battle to its conclusion.

But thankfully he did not have to.

In a brilliant burst of fiery glory, Fawkes appeared, falling upon the dazed and sluggish basilisk and tore at its last and vulnerable eye. It hissed in rage and pain, striking blindly at the bird that evaded it with embarrassing ease.

With its deadly glare neutralised, Snape finally dared to open his eyes, only to behold the grand figure of Albus Dumbledore standing before the hideous dark creature, his wand raised in silent spell work. Thick dark liquid seeped from its torn pits as it writhed, hissing high with pain. Blood gushed suddenly from its open maw, spilling upon the stone floor as it seized into its coiled mass, and moved no more.

Dumbledore turned to him, a relieved smile upon his bearded face. "You did well, Severus."

"Took you long enough," Snape spat as he leant against the wall, then his trembling legs finally gave way alongside his adrenaline and he slid slowly to the floor.

The headmaster dipped his head, "I apologise. I could not ask Fawkes to engage the basilisk in the tight confines of the corridor."

"But you could risk me."

His heart settled, the danger was over. He had won. He had survived, and found unthinkably complete success. The creature laid slain, its carcass whole for valuable harvest for contributions to the school supplies store, and most likely to Slughorn's infamously sticky fingers, the diary was rendered inert, and an unexpected weapon to wield against their enemies had made itself known. A weapon that he had dropped without another thought.

Snape attempted to push himself to his feet, but Dumbledore motioned for him to still as the headmaster himself assessed his curse-induced trauma. Cruciatus left no true lasting effects physically, something the spymaster would be forever grateful for.

"The diary is on the first floor, by Avery's stricken form." Snape growled through clenched teeth, feeling exhaustion bleach his body. "The boy's alive but unlikely to have gathered himself enough to move. The weapon I had used to destroy it is a focus stone, shaped like a black spear tip, that should lay somewhere within its vicinity. I would suggest you hurry up there before curiosity seekers decide to take it as a souvenir."

Without a word of argument, Dumbledore left his side to ascend the short flight of steps, and Snape leaned his head back to finally rest. He did not know for how long he had closed his eyes, but when warm hands rested upon his cheeks and lifted his face up from his slump against his chest, Lily's green eyes peered down upon him.

"Severus," she breathed, a smile cracking through her concern. Snape winced as she flung her arms about him, jostling his curse-wracked body.

"Out of the way," Madam Pomfrey's voice harried as she bustled into the stairwell. With bleary eyes Snape noticed the great crowds of students gathered upon the first floor flight, staring down with wide-eyed awe. At him. At the body of the great beast. But Lily's eyes were only for him. As the resident matron shooed her from his side, those green eyes never left his.

* * *

A/N: ATTACK, MY BATTLE COCKS! I AM THE GENERAL OF THE CHICKEN ARMY!

A/N: Another new year draws near. Happy new year to one and to all!

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 12th January 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 51: Return to the Familiar**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	51. Return to the Familiar

**Chapter 51: Return to the Familiar**

When Snape was finally given permission to leave the hospital wing, it was under the strict promise to Madam Pomfrey that he would immediately return to bedrest within his own dorm. She even had it arranged for the House Elves to deliver his meals for the duration of his home rest, an arrangement he greatly appreciated.

His young robust body would not take long to rebound. Though the Cruciatus curse did not touch the body in any physical way, the pain it elicited caused the body to seize and spasm. In his spy years, his brushes with the curse always left him worse for wear; the curse wrecked a harrowing toll upon his older and far more worn body. In this he was at least thankful for his youth, the pain of torture to be reduced to nothing more than mere soreness of overexertion.

Within a day he found himself well enough to attend to homework. An eventful Easter Break didn't excuse him from not completing his assigned work. And with the exam period literally one month away, every piece of homework was a valuable resource for revision.

With half the week-long holiday wasted by the fussiness of the Matron, Snape scrambled to make use of the remaining time. Though now that the crisis was over, stress no longer nipped at him as it had before and by comparison this return to educational concern was a welcome break from headaches and wrinkled brows.

Though he was certain his welfare was more than enough to warrant his freedom from house arrest, he was reluctant to set foot outside. His already worn robes that had survived seven years of repair and extension spells hung off him tattered and torn.

The battle against the basilisk had seen great tears appear along the torso of his robes and great swaths of acid burns to splatter along his sleeves and his robe back. Though the House Elves had seen to the damage as best they could when they collected his only set of robes for laundering, no amount of tailoring skill could restore the damage that was wrought. A great scar stretched across his robe torso, held together by stitches that was mercifully the same colour. Swathes of patchwork dotted his robes, up and down the arms and along the back to no doubt counteract against the venom burns.

Not even the lure of resources from the library could prise him from his reluctance. If it weren't for the need of a desk, Snape would not even have set foot out into the common room. Of the few Slytherins that stayed over the holidays, none made mention of his increasingly scrappy appearance, and most left him alone.

But during an overcast day, a day after his full recovery, with the light filtering weakly through the dense green filter of the Great Lake, Snape received an interruption that he did not expect.

"You lost this," came a voice as his silver ring dropped and rattled upon his scroll and a half of writing. Snape snatched at it, relieved to see it again. When the basilisk fang tore open his satchel, he had lost his ring in the ensuing mayhem. Though Snape had only searched for it a grand total of once, on the short trek down from the hospital wing that happened to incorporate that very hallway where he had combatted that dark creature, he had written it off for lost. This miraculous return would save him from a very unpleasant future conversation.

"Thank you. I appreciate it, Avery," Snape muttered as he turned his dark eyes to regard the squirrelly boy who had once been his friend.

Avery had returned from the hospital wing sometime after Snape had. He had been bedridden for far longer than Snape had fared, his damage extending further than from just a few tweaked muscles. Possession was by no means a common occurrence within the magical world and each instance was met with intense scrutiny and concern. The boy was simply fortunate that the curse of the diary held no lasting effects past its destruction.

Despite the recent animosity between the two, the fact that Avery had willingly approached him was something of a promising indication.

"How have you been faring?" the once-professor ventured, a clumsy broach into the world of empathy.

"I'm fine," came the uncommitted reply. Avery was pale, and unsmiling, but given that his family had fallen out of favour with the Dark Lord, and how he had almost died for a task given for that very affront, his lack of jubilance was not unexpected.

Snape indicated the chair opposite, and after a moment's hesitation the boy did as he was bade. He was willing to cooperate, or at least lacked the will to act openly defiant. Worn from the past month's ordeals perhaps or bearing the realisation that no safe haven was left to harbour him once school ceased.

"We have two months of school left, Avery. Two months of safety within these walls. Have you thought of what you might need to do?" Snape broached the topic somewhat indelicately, seeing the boy pale further under such a pertinent question.

He did not answer, seeming to droop where he sat. Children did not have a wide scope of life, encased in the safety that was the structure of school and parental guidance. But within two months, that would all be over. The world was baying on their doorstep, and for this boy, a boy who had stood as a known element to the greatest evil of this day and age, the world would become a hostile place. He could not expect this child to know what his options to be, or to trust that the child's fear wouldn't drive him to desperations.

"You have no reason to trust me, but I wish to offer you advice nonetheless." Snape set down his quill and capped his near-depleted inkwell. Another resource he had great need for, but thankfully the school cupboards held refills for students caught out during the school year. "When we are set upon the world, perhaps you might consider going into hiding."

Avery glanced up sharply, but his glare held no strength behind it. Any affront to his Slytherin pride was dulled by the unspoken fear that gripped him from within.

Snape continued, hoping to drive his point through. "Your family finances are decent, I imagine it would be enough to set you up abroad. Though you cannot do anything for your incarcerated father, you can at least ensure your mother, and sister was it? You can ensure they survive what is to come. The Dark Lord's influence might be growing, but he has not yet reached capacity to extend beyond our borders. Perhaps not for a while yet. America is not a terrible alternative." In this lifetime, the riches of the Prince's ancient coffers were not available to the Dark Lord's campaign fund. Perhaps that would be enough to stymie the spread of his influence enough to protect those that fled abroad. At least for a while. Where once, not even the depth of the Russian slums had been enough to protect Karkaroff from the Dark Lord's personal ire.

"Why would I flee?" Avery asked, but his voice shook as he mumbled. He was aware, despite his question.

Snape was brutal with his frankness, "You were given a task, were you not? Along with an article of immense value to help you accomplish your task." _He_ would have impressed upon the boy the importance of what he was safeguarding, surely. Even if Avery had no notion that what he held was a piece of the Dark Lord's soul, he would have been at least been made aware of the value of what he was given, and the penalty for failing to safeguard it. "The diary that held you in its possession is destroyed. Do not expect him to be merciful."

Avery's eyes dropped, a shiver struck down his body. He knew what awaited him should he return. He knew what failure meant, especially for one already out of favour. "But… I can't…" he floundered, no doubt struck by the magnitude of the change that lay before him. The fissures that formed within his life. But that was what it would take for him to survive.

"Nothing has to be done immediately. Whether he knows yet of that failure or not, you are protected within Hogwarts walls. You will not meet your end so long as you are here, and I will do what I can to protect you while you remain," Snape offered, almost gently. He had always a soft spot for his Slytherins, but never had any taken to him for advice in true. He had never built a reputation for being a coddler or led by example of appropriate life choices. "But in your best interest you best think on your future now. Two months can pass in a blink of an eye, Avery."

"I am aware," the boy muttered in answer, his brows scrunched unabashedly in concern over his predicament. Avery knew his situation, and he feared deeply for what might come about.

"Then this is all I can offer, Avery. The rest is up to you." For his own survival, Snape hoped the boy would heed his advice.

With a dip of his head, Avery muttered, "Thank you." Gratitude was unexpected concession to his advice. Snape was too used to having his words unheeded by the young and foolish, especially such for such harsh ideas as to flee the only life they knew.

"I only told you to flee. That is hardly precious advice," Snape murmured, unused to gratitude.

Avery gave a tired grimace. "I meant thank you for giving a place within this school. I cast an unforgivable curse upon you. Ordinarily I would have been expelled."

"What you did under possession is not actions of your own. The Wizengamot would not have convicted you," Snape reassured the boy, a lot more gently than he was used to being. There was much to his own actions that differed from the past, and he could not say he gave in to the change unwillingly.

Without another word between them, Avery took his leave, the worry upon his brow seeming to lighten a little. Snape hoped with some true sincerity that the boy would take heed to his words. Though the Avery of his lifetime had lived to become one of the Inner Circle amongst the Dark Lord's Death Eaters, he had never found true success even amongst their numbers. Snape never knew of the boy's ultimate fate during the final battle, but at the very least it would not need to come to that in this one.

With suppressed sigh, Snape leaned back into his chair, turning his returned ring between his fingers and allowing the light to play along its inner surface. An etched doe glinted back, a reminder of everything that was forgiven of him this lifetime.

Redemption was not his alone to be had it seemed, and his duty in that regard was no longer only his own. For so long his purpose had been singular, duty owed to a memory that drove him to naught but despair. But all that was a crutch he no longer needed, regret was no longer what drove him.

He walked the path of the light of his own free will, and though many would weather such similar mistakes, and accrue their own mountain of sins, he would guide those that he could, for as long as he could. His duty was to the future now, and the world was more than just he and Lily.

* * *

Not one day since being admitted to the hospital wing was Severus released again, then for days there was no sign. Worry was nipping at Lily's heart and mind.

Though the creature's remains had been removed, butchered efficiently by Hagrid and its components collected and categorised by an ever so eager Slughorn, its nightmarish figure remained in her mind. Every time she climbed down the Grand Staircase, she was reminded of that creature's corpse, coiled at the floor of the stairwell. Its great mangled eyes staring hollowly with its great fangs bared, each cruel curve of its teeth still glistening with venom.

And before it had laid Severus, slumped against the wall. Her heart had twisted with fear upon the sight. She had rushed for his fallen form, hoping, just hoping it wasn't what it seemed. That he hadn't pursued the creature and exchanged fatal blows.

But her fears were eased the moment he awoke to her touch, dazed and seemingly a little confused, but miraculously alive. But all too obviously, whatever had transpired had taken a toll on him. Sev could barely stand without assistance, and actually accompanied Madam Pomfrey to the hospital wing without putting up too much of a struggle.

And from that point on, the rumours began.

"They say he took down the basilisk himself. Fought it one on one."

"Looked the thing dead in the eyes and all it did was make him woozy."

"That massive thing bit him. Did you see that gash on his robes? He'd have to have been bitten!"

All that talk served to send a shiver down Lily's spine. Combine that with days of lost contact her imagination was dancing with the devil on this one.

"He'll pull through." Susan reassured with a firm squeeze of her hand over her morning pumpkin juice. She was surprisingly supportive during this harrowing time, perhaps with only Pandora for companionship, the allure of gossip lost its lustre. "But you mean to say you heard nothing from him? Not even a… magical doe to say he's alright?" Perhaps her interest wasn't entirely for the purpose of acting supportive.

"No," Lily sighed, her will to resist this trawl for information waning on the face of someone to lament her woes to. Without Mary at hand, her empathetic support had become the socially leaden Pandora, the emotionally and physically elusive Severus or Susan, and beggars can't be choosers.

But in coming days, she had felt the tug of his presence through her ring. His presence as sudden as its disappearance, and so comforting in its return. But he did not move from the floors below, never moved from his shelter in the dungeons. And she could not help but shake the worry that he was unable to, that the injuries he had incurred was of far greater concern than Madam Pomfrey had made it seem. Why else would he not come up to see her? To tell her that he was alright?

Lily prodded at her bowl of oats listlessly, worry swimming about her mind. She had even picked her least favourite breakfast item without really thinking about it, Sev's favourite for some unfathomable reason. At the very least it was palatable when loaded strongly with honey; Sev could eat it cold turkey.

"Do you think he did it all for you?" Susan asked in a hushed sigh. "He fought the beast to keep you safe?"

Pandora glanced up from her bowl of yogurt and honey. "I don't think there's any other more likely scenarios. A strangely reckless course of action for someone hailing from such a reputedly cautious House." Odd words then elicit another such sigh from Susan.

Lily took another mushy bite of sweetened oats, not relishing the texture that did nothing to distract her from her mired mind. Worry warred with her patience, and her capacity in that regard was legendarily limited.

"I can't take it anymore. I'm tearing my hair out wondering about him." Lily pushed away her unfinished texture-less breakfast and stood from the bench.

Susan gasped dramatically, wide-eyed and scandalised. "Are you going to barge into his dormitory?"

"No outsider's been allowed across the threshold for seven centuries," Pandora divulged, a hint of concern colouring her offer of informative trivia.

"The centuries were also stacked against the appearance of Basilisks," Lily quipped as she drained the last pulp of her orange juice. "It feels like a time for change."

She set her glass down Lily marched off determinedly for the Entrance Hall. Her glass, along with her half-finished breakfast was swept away by the housekeeping magic of the castle elves.

"If you don't reappear by lunchtime we'll assume the worst!" Susan's shrill voice rang out behind her.

Lily heaved a silent sigh. "I expect nothing less."

The first obstacle to cross was of course the question of how to even locate the blighted door. Slytherins were notoriously secretive, and though Lily had ample opportunity to find out, somehow that information had eluded her for the entire seven years of her school years. Severus had known where her homeroom was but never thought to clue her in to where his was. But the fault wasn't entirely his to be had. She had never gone out of her way to find out.

At the very least she had a tool to guide her search. She descended to the dungeons and followed the tug of her ring. She tracked her magical senses until she stood before a stretch of stone wall, wondering how on earth she should go about trying to uncover its secret.

Ordinarily she wouldn't have been half so coy about sending in her Patronus to cue him to her presence. But if he was so ropey that he couldn't even come up for meals, then she wasn't about to drive him out of bed to let her in.

She skimmed her eyes about the seamless wall, looking for any clue as to how to enter. If it worked anything like the Gryffindor entrance then there should be password protected, but she knew better than to assume.

She had visited Dorcas on the occasion and knew the Ravenclaw entrance was locked by a riddle; it really was hit and miss about how many outsiders it could actually turn away. As for the Hufflepuffs, she heard tale that their entrance was protected by a password that was essentially a rhythm to tap upon a barrel. By this regard, the Slytherin entrance must be protected by something entirely different, something entirely unheard of.

Her brows wrinkled as she stood back to contemplate her dilemma, walking straight into a solid form. She startled, stumbling forward, fumbling for her wand, only to meet the gormless eyes of a boy who towered above her.

Mulciber stood staring in slow confusion, hand bereft of a wand, rendering him only marginally less threatening. Though the boy was member to Snape's reformatory efforts, it was difficult to forget that not two years past he was bullying and cajoling with the worst of their kind. But his presence in her husband's life forced Lily to make the effort to push past all that, but one on one in his territory was not the ideal way she wished to maintain their distant relationship.

"I just came down to see Severus," she uttered, as appropriate an excuse as the truth could possibly be.

Those heavy brows lifted marginally, seeming to answer at least part of the confusion the boy was struck with. "Right. Sure. I see." He stared for a moment more, as if trying to work his way around some part of her statement. "Except this isn't where you enter. It's down that way." He pointed further down the darkened corridor to an unspecific point, vague terms of reference to go by.

"How about you show me?" Lily ventured, uncertain if her request would be denied, but to her pleasant surprise Mulciber simply nodded and waved her to follow.

If someone had told her that Slytherins would be so cooperative this time two years ago, or heck even a year ago, she would have been severely sceptical, perhaps even have recommended a trip to St Mungo's to check their overactive imagination because surely that was a symptom of an unhealthy mind. But here she stood, in the non-threatening presence of the likes of Mulciber, being given directions on how to breach the tightly guarded Slytherin sanctum.

The word Miracle Worker had often been granted lightly, but never had the term been so deserved as by Severus Snape.

"He never showed you where the entrance was, did he?" Mulciber asked suddenly. They were even willing to do small talk, hallelujah.

"He certainly did not. He is infuriatingly tight lipped about everything," Lily lamented with an overplayed sigh.

Mulciber, however, did not detect the jest in her voice. "Wait, so will he actually want to see you then?"

"Well we're married now. I'm given to understand this is where we begin to never want to see each other." Lily quipped, but then quickly added, "I'm kidding, by the way." Just in case the worryingly dense boy was to take her in all seriousness and deny her entry at the threshold.

Mulciber frowned, casting a worried gormless glance in her direction. Lily worried she might have pushed the humour too hard on their first real interaction. "I love him, I really do." She affirmed with a solemn note to wave away any doubts about her intent.

Mulciber's frown only deepened, but the question that left his mouth took the conversation in an entirely different direction. "How did he get you to love him in the first place?"

Well that was a surprisingly personal question for their first interaction. "Well… we were friends originally. Then we had a bit of a spat-"

"Is that the only way?" His heavy brows knitted together, his tone too personal to simply be a curiosity query.

Lily raised her own curious brow. "Asking for a friend?"

"No. Asking for me." Came the surprisingly straightforward reply from someone who should have been a slippery Slytherin. It seems not all snakes were cut from the same cloth, for Mulciber could not be more different from Sev's elusive nature.

"Did Sev not share his secret with the ladies?" Lily jested again, against all better wisdom.

Mulciber actually looked hopeful, the poor naïve boy. "No. He has a secret?"

"No. He does not," Lily sighed, resolving to be literal for the duration of this conversation. "He simply confessed. I said yes. There's no secret."

His face fell. "Is that it? It's all chance?"

"It wasn't all chance," Lily insisted, wondering how she wound up in a situation where she was discussing the topic of relationships with a barely-acquainted Slytherin. "I was kind of swept away by his actions. Courage and nobility is very attractive in a man."

"Is this true for all Gryffindors?" a query that just seemed too specific.

"Why?" Lily asked suspiciously, "Got a Gryffindor in mind?"

Mulciber didn't even hesitate. "Susan."

Now this was a titbit she hadn't expected. "You actually have a thing for Susan?" Lily could not channel her sister's nosiness harder.

"She ever say anything about me?" he asked, though not very hopefully.

"I don't even think she knows." Lily tried to let him down gently. "I mean if she did, so would all we. She couldn't ever keep a morsel of gossip to herself."

"So you recommend I be forward?"

"Umm…"

But Lily was spared an answer as the tall boy halted in his step and turned to a blank stretch of wall no more telling than the one she had tapped her wand all over. "Salazar's chosen," he announced in a clear voice and the wall shifted to reveal a door.

Lily tried to hide her severe disappointment in this lack of creativity as she followed Mulciber through the opening, stepping forth into a green-tinted expanse. It struck her how dark this room was, despite the bright sunny day that was belting down on the world above. Most of the lighting was supplied by the greenish lamps that hung from the ceiling every few feet that cast the entire room into a relief of a green glow, perhaps assisted by the greenish light that filtered through the great lake that pressed against their windows. Despite the warmth of the spring day, there was a distinct chill to their dungeon room. Their fireplace was roaring merrily, the only orange light in a room of soft greens, casting the serpent carvings about the mantle into stark relief. Even the furniture took on feel of formality, with grand high-backed chairs that squared off across tea tables, and grand leather upholstery across all their sofas and armchairs.

No soft cosy armchairs lined the room, no open windows existed to the feel the breeze, there was nothing to this common room that was remotely free or comforting. Even the decoration was morbid, with skulls and grand tapestries of medieval wizards sneering down at its inhabitants. Her Gryffindor spirit rebelled against the suffocating atmosphere, and she could not imagine what it would be like to live like this for seven years.

And before a grand claw-legged desk, sat Severus. It seemed her worry was entirely for naught as he sat straight up at the sight of her, his inked quill in hand, textbooks sprawled open before him.

* * *

Easter Break was only a week long and within minutes of their return, every Gryffindor heard news of the happenings.

"It was real? An actual honest to goodness basilisk, and we missed it?" James demanded, his eyes wide with disbelief. Not five minutes after their return, Lily found herself surrounded by Marauders in the common room. They hadn't even unpacked yet, suitcases crowding their feet as they sat in a tight circle of sofas and armchairs.

"We all missed it, Sev was the only one that encountered it. And he didn't bother saving any for the rest of us," Lily replied, well more calm about the whole incident now that she knew everyone turned out okay. No lasting injuries marred Severus' health and physique, only his ancient robes carried permanent scars from that battle. Great gashes ran down his robe length, patched reasonably well with mismatching fabric and threads. The prim and proud man he was, it was apparent immediately why he was shy to emerge from his den.

"I can't believe a Slytherin killed it. It should have been a Gryffindor!" Black groused adamantly. "Why couldn't the Heir of bloody Slytherin wait until we got back?"

James, however, had a far more optimistic way of looking at things. "Technically he's Gryffindor by marriage right?"

Marlene grimaced. "But that'd make Lily a Slytherin by marriage."

"I already took his last name," Lily remarked solemnly. "He'll have to take my House, it's only fair."

Peter shuffled closer, squishing Remus as he did so. "How did he kill it though?"

Everyone leaned in a little in anticipation while Lily wracked her imperfect memory. "Well I obviously didn't see the fight, but it looked and smelled like he set it on fire." She remembered the sight of that mangled snake, burns marring its face and scales as its blood pooled thickly upon the floor.

"Didn't he tell you how he did it?" Marlene asked quizzically.

"He's not exactly the boasting kind." Lily shuffled awkwardly in her seat.

"You didn't ask?"

"I was just happy he's alive."

The conversation that occurred between them hadn't so much featured the events of his adventure, her concerns were more in regards to his welfare rather than inquiries of his heroics. And the immediate next concern after establishing he was alive and well was to rebuke him for half an hour over his decision to hide out rather than come immediately to inform his wife of his continued wellbeing. She had since cooled off, but hadn't the nerve to broach his sanctum again after causing such a scene in front of his friends.

The Marauders looked visibly deflated at the lack of story to be had. "And here we thought you'd be the first in the know," James lamented.

Lily almost winced at all the disappointment her lack of information elicited. "By all means, ask him all about it in class tomorrow."

"They're still making him attend class?" Marlene snorted, "He killed a basilisk, surely the least they can do is exempt him from exams and just slap his scores with gold stars."

"Oh he'd chuck a fit if they tried," Lily remarked all too knowingly in this regard. "I swear study is one of the great loves of his life. A girl could get jealous of how amorously he pursues knowledge. I swear he's cheating on me with a textbook."

Black rolled his eyes. "I've always suspected he isn't human, and more I hear about him the more I'm convinced."

Remus gave an apologetic smile on behalf of his friend. "It doesn't hurt to study, Sirius. And I'm sure there are many a great benefit to associate closely with one so driven as he."

"Certainly. My homework scores have never been healthier," Lily confirmed. She had never been a terrible student, certainly not in the same league as Marlene. As far as her best friend was concerned, that title was uncontested. But since her entanglement with Severus he had kept her to task. Rather than the distraction of having a significant other to contend with her attention, he managed to keep her to task better than had she done so autonomously.

Black, however, could never leave a conversation on a high note. "Shagging for academic results. I get it now."

Every soul in this conversation immediately cringed at the thought, and Lily wrestled with the urge to hex him. "And you can keep your filthy thoughts to yourself. Don't think I've forgotten your foulness last we spoke."

More awkward grimaces made its way about their circle and for a moment there, it had seemed as if Black had no notion of what she was referring to, until unexpectedly a sheepish grimace crossed his features. "Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean that."

Well that was a surprise, Black acting apologetic. Everyone turned their eyes upon him, surprise written upon every one of their features. He scowled back, never one to take a public humbling, and never one to allow himself to end things on a good light.

"You have nothing to worry about from me, Evans," he sneered as he leaned back in his seat, all haughty swagger. "No amount of good looks could make up for a terrible personality."

To which Lily quipped back coolly. "Why you mirror my sentiments. It seems we can see eye-to-eye."

* * *

There was no avoiding it any longer. School was back and with it, Snape's obligation to attend to the outside world recommenced. His House Elf catering ended with one last assessment of health by Madam Pomfrey, who had kindly visited the dungeons to do so rather than summon him up.

Breakfast was to be taken in the Great Hall again, no longer emptied by the holidays. He arose for breakfast later than usual in hopes to avoid crowds and by extension scrutiny in his increasingly frayed robes. But that hope was dashed the moment he pushed through those doors and four hundred pairs of eyes swung about to regard him. The bubbling conversation of the hall ceased, and then the whispers began. Those whispers that clawed at his self-consciousness and sent him scowling at the floor.

But then the headmaster's voice drew his eyes from the floor. Albus Dumbledore stood from his throne-like seat on the High Table, holding his hand out to settle bubbling voices. "I'm certain many of you heard tale of the happenings over the course of the holidays," he addressed to the student body in a solemn voice. "That a Basilisk emerged to terrorise our halls, and that one of your own arose to face it."

Those wide young eyes swung about to seek him once again. Snape ducked his head and scowled, attempting to locate an empty seat as inconspicuously as he could. He didn't need more attention to be called to him. Urquart shuffled subtly down the bench and Snape took the offered space gratefully.

"In light of recent events, I believe the only appropriate action is to reward such selfless heroism. A hundred points to Slytherin, for aid rendered upon the school and its people." Cheers erupted from the Slytherin table. Children still valued those worthless points above most else, even the opposing reasons behind them.

"Only a hundred?" Mulciber lamented from opposite, but he smiled ear to ear nonetheless. A sentiment shared by Urquart, it seemed, for it was the first time Snape has seen the two smile over an agreement. From down the length of the table, Rosier shot him an indiscernible look, that only held his gaze for just long enough before blending back into his usual façade of boredom, while Avery did not even look up, still mired in the troubles his own actions, albeit forced, brought upon himself.

But despite the already unwelcome attention he had incited, Dumbledore was not finished, raising his goblet as if in toast. "Will the school join me in gratitude for his services in protecting our students and our domain?"

Clamorous cheers that erupted from the Gryffindor table, celebratory reverence Snape had never expected from that rabble, least of all for him. Those undisciplined cretins that had done naught but rend mockery upon him for two lifetimes stood in ovation to his honour. Their enthusiasm spreading to other tables, as Hufflepuffs joined in, equally enthusiastic, and Ravenclaws too, but far more dignified in their restraint. From the Slytherins he got only silence, but the nods of approval from his supporting Housemates spoke volumes more than the calamitous noise assaulting his ears.

And across the hall, those green eyes met his. Anger no longer held for infarctions upon his unreported welfare. Only pride sat in those beautiful orbs. Pride for his actions, and his accolades.

For the first time, in a very long time, he felt he had done right by her. And by himself.

* * *

"I will transfigure him into something that cannot speak if you do not all settle down!" came McGonagall's no-nonsense voice, and Lily grimaced as the flocks of students left the crush around Severus' desk, allowing him a breath of relief.

Centre of attention, exactly where he always hated to be, and first day back in class was proving to be trying for both him and the good Professor. Though Professor McGonagall would always settle the class eventually, within minutes students begin to pass questions towards Severus, or approach under the guise of queries, all of which he studiously ignored or deflected, or outright berated.

She wondered if he realised his story was the featured main article in today's morning paper. "Protector of Slytherin," the media had dubbed him, and so fitting a moniker it was. Though she doubted he'd appreciate the nickname one whit. It really would be the least wise thing to do for anyone to mention this to his face, but knowing her cohorts, she had no doubts those words had already been uttered to him.

Lily sent an apologetic smile his way on behalf of her curious fellow Gryffindors. She was under no illusions about which House was proving the most persistent over tales of his heroics. Even the four Marauders couldn't help but periodically glance over to him, and sometimes with simmering jealousy in the case of Sirius Black. The idea of a hero not hailing from Gryffindor was somehow offensive to his sensibilities, or lack thereof.

"Does he realise his robes are torn?" Marlene whispered low to Lily. But how could he not? That terrible eye-catching gash across his torso invoked imagery most vivid of the battle that must have transpired. Imaginings that Lily did well not to dwell on.

"I don't think he can afford to replace them," James mumbled to his girlfriend, seeming abashed by the thought. Perhaps reminded of personally supplying a handful of scars upon Severus' tattered garment.

Sirius' eyes narrowed upon the Slytherin boy scowling at the back, sporting a mirroring expression. "Look at him. Strutting about like some celebrated war hero."

But Severus seemed anything but celebratory of the attention lavished upon him. Class couldn't end soon enough for him it seemed, for he darted out of the classroom before most had even finished packing their bags. Lily stuffed her textbook and quills into her pack quickly so that she might give chase before he disappeared into that depressing excuse for a common room.

They hadn't had a real conversation since that day she visited, and quite appropriately lost her temper over his leaving her hanging over his welfare. And if truth be told, that wasn't much of a conversation.

"Sev! Wait up!" Lily called out when she finally caught his lone form rapidly descending the stairwell. Students emerging from various floors were beginning to take notice of him, and he was obviously not keen to stick around for long enough for questions to begin flying again.

At the sound of his voice, he halted in his step, turning his dark eyes up towards her. She didn't have him wait long, for she quickly slipped down two switching stairs to appear by his side, linking arms with him and whisking him away without a word exchanged.

The fresh air assaulted their senses, as too did the warmth of the sunny midmorning. Summer was fast approaching, and with it the end to their school lives. A door to their lives that opened to a new world that was both exhilarating and terrifying by equal measures. But a world she did not have to face alone.

As if sensing her thought, she felt Severus' fingers tighten around hers. Or perhaps he was taking issue with the fresh air in the open grounds, on a day when attention was preferable to avoid. But after a solid week of hiding out in the depth of gloom, Sev needs some sun, and some company.

"I take it that you're no longer angry with me," Sev broached quite boldly. He always gave her the impression he liked to tread around things lightly, so he probably knew the answer before he asked.

"Well I assume your clever clogs has figured out what you did wrong and have resolved to not do it again?" Lily shot back, with raised eyebrows and a smile that she simply could not hide.

A shadow of a smile touched his thin lips. "You made it abundantly clear your last visit. I should have informed you immediately of my welfare."

"You show remarkable capability for learning," said Lily solemnly.

They stepped down to the lake's edge, within the snug shelter of tree roots. It was Lily's favourite spot, now touched by warm memories they had made together at this very place. Where their hearts had connected under the gentle touch of a spell in the form of a doe.

His hand released hers, as they found their way about her waist, pulling her close as they settled in that cosy nook between the roots.

"I never realised I married such a hero," Lily muttered as she nuzzled through his curtain of hair. "I thought I was avoiding all that by choosing outside of Gryffindor."

Sev turned to sweep his hair to the side, allowing her to lay her head upon his shoulder. "It was foolhardy of me to go about it in such a risky manner. I apologise to have caused you concern."

"Glad you're self-aware enough to know how foolish that was," Lily huffed, but without a hint of bitterness. "That had been positively Gryffindor of you."

"You don't need to insult me."

She had feared terribly at the time for the worst that could have been, but now she could feel naught but pride. Positive outcomes had a way of colouring foolish deeds with a courageous tone. Perhaps that was precisely the type of Gryffindor mentality he most deemed as foolish, but courage was hollow without risks.

Her fingers tightened about his arm, prompting him to glance down, his dark eyes soft as he met hers. "How close of a call was it?" Lily's voice came out as a whisper. His dark eyes that had watched her so silently, closed a moment, too long to be mistaken for a blink.

His voice came, deep, measured, carrying words horrifying in their honesty. "I did not go into the fray optimistic, and there were moments where I believed I was lost."

Lily averted her eyes, untethered by the thought. How close she had come to losing him, this wonderful, noble, courageous man that had risked life and limb for her sake, and the sake of every soul in this school.

The silence that followed that admission, wound about them heavy and thick. She cast her eyes upon the shimmering lake, the terrible thought balanced upon her mind. The thought of losing him. Tears came unbidden to her eyes which she halted with furious blinking. She didn't want him to feel as if he had done the wrong thing, and tears would really convey the wrong message. But she had been so scared, and those fears had been affirmed by his own words.

Sev did not walk into that battle knowing he would come out in one piece, but he sought it out regardless, for her sake. She had no illusions who he had been defending when he chose to face the king of all serpents. A creature under the influence of an individual with an agenda against muggle-borns.

"So did you end up catching the guy who let it out?" Lily asked in a rush, hoping that was enough to mask the quiver of emotion on her tone.

With an even tone, he reassured her. "I broke the threat. He won't offend again."

"Is he expelled?" she asked, a hard edge to her shaking voice, her anger rising from the fear she could not quell. Anger at the unknown assailant, who could have very well killed the man she loved and destroyed the only family she had left.

She felt him shift, but she did not turn her eyes back to him, lest he sees the tears that escaped, and had not yet dried upon her cheeks. But then his lips pressed against her crown, a gentle kiss from thin but cherished lips.

A breathy giggle escaped her, and with it the knot of anxiety she hadn't known she was holding. Severus turned where he sat to pull her bodily into him, enveloping her in his lean, sinewy arms. "Believe me when I say I have no desire to see my end so soon. I would not leave a threat untended."

"We both have a lot of living left to do," Lily agreed, sinking into his warm and welcome embrace. "We haven't been married for even two months yet. It would be very poor for you to leave me a widow so young."

She glanced up to meet those black eyes, only to find them boring into her. "Preferable to the alternative."

She tapped her palm to his chest, only half-in-jest, and half in true chastisement. Those words invoked an intent he had uttered in the past, and it chilled her heart at the thought.

That he valued her life above his own.

Though she had never doubted the sentiment, it was a different beast to be confronted with the fruit of such thinking. That he would willingly seek out a creature he had not thought he could best with confidence, just for the chance to turn it out of her path.

He had once warned her that his life was conditional to her own. Words that no longer seemed a baseless, but a rigid ultimatum. And never had a realisation sat heavier upon her soul.

* * *

Though Snape had made a weekly habit of visiting the headmaster's office, today's visit was out of the ordinary. That was because Snape had been summoned on a day not scheduled, straight from the Great Hall during dinner. Slughorn had been sent from the High Table to convey the summons, and he seemed strangely happy to do so, despite being forced to take leave between bites.

"Here we are. Fetched your little alchemist as you requested." Slughorn beamed with pride, slightly winded by the brief ascent up the headmaster's spiral staircase. "Will that be all, Albus?"

Dumbledore raised his eyes from an unfurled scroll before him to give a small airy acknowledgement. "My gratitude, Horace. I apologise for disturbing your meal."

A sentiment the rotund professor waved off with a happy bluster. "Oh don't mention it. After all, Mr Snape is one of my little Slugs." _Slug before snake. Typical._

Snape stepped into the room as Slughorn made to leave, having to edge around the professor's sizable bulk. But before he could begin squeezing his hefty form down the stairs, Slughorn paused as if taken with a thought. "One last question, Albus. What would you do about the reporters baying at the door? There are too many requests for quotes and interviews to count. I'll be more than happy to see the whole affair handled on your behalf."

"If you would, please." Dumbledore agreed without a hint of qualm.

Sated, the bulky Professor bustled happily down the stairs, positively humming as he went. As the door closed behind him, Snape finally approached the desk, taking his seat opposite as was his usual state.

"Couldn't even wait for Friday, could you?" he grumbled as a teacup and saucer settled magically before him. A satisfyingly dark concoction this time, but from the smell he knew he would find himself disappointed.

The scrolls upon the table peeled away and arranged themselves neatly within a pocket shelf, and a matching set of cup and saucer settled itself before Dumbledore, where the clutter once stood. "I apologise if I disturbed your meal. I can have a meal sent up if you like for you to sup as we speak."

"Don't bother," Snape muttered, going in for a tentative sip. Sweet and floral. The absolute worst. The hunger that had plagued him since the beginning of this new life no longer held him within its merciless grasp. Meals sat better and his hunger sated longer. Perhaps it was a sign of the end to his growth years, or more likely that he had emerged hale from his malnourishment.

Indeed he had felt far better in recent months, in every aspect of his being, but whether it was down to any one thing of the many miraculous happenings of his life, he cannot say. Steady nutrition, and dedication to physical fitness in preparation for his near-death encounter had done wonders for his body, but truly what he had with Lily was the salve for his spirit.

There was so much living to look forward to, now that immediate danger was behind him. But it wasn't over, not really. The looming war was about to commence in earnest with the coming year of his graduation, a fact he could not help but be reminded as Dumbledore's steady blue eyes met his, and the diary appeared upon the table between them.

"It is quite incredible that you had disarmed the dark object as you did, but as it were, I confess I am quite at a loss as to how you achieved this feat." Dumbledore's blue piercing blue eyes did not waver from his, but he felt no intruding broach of Legilimency. Their relationship was past such things it seemed. "Especially in regard to this artefact you had asked me to collect." The black focus stone emerged from behind the desk, placed flat beside the Horcrux it neutralised.

"It is a focus stone," Snape offered, eyeing his creation cautiously. He had always suspected the power of the object extended beyond revealing what should not be able to be seen, but having it confirmed to such a degree stirred disquiet in his heart. He had created something with the power to destroy Horcruxes at a touch, and he had no notion of how it even functioned.

Dumbledore held no such reservations it seemed, as he reached forward to run a finger down its uneven surface to its jagged tip. "How is it that you were able to use a focus stone to defeat a dark object as powerful as this?"

"Believe me. If I knew, I would tell you," Snape muttered, scowling at his unknown creation. As strong as his academia in the subject was, he had made no headway on the mystery he progenerated.

When he had engaged the life-risking scenario, in his heart he knew he took it to task in the least optimal way. Little did he know he had already engineered his own solution and had no need to risk life and limb as he did. Cosmic irony indeed.

A moment more of silence ensued, before Dumbledore finally turned away from the window. "I believe we should find out."

With the barest of gesture, he summoned a small lock box from behind a shifted portrait, disturbing the dozing headmaster within. Instead of unlatching it with a key, Dumbledore pressed his finger against the edges, drawing them together atop the keyhole. The container unravelled, shrivelling into the table until only its contents remained. A bed of soft silk bedding, on top of which sat the cursed ring.

Without a word, Snape reached for his tasked creation, feeling the heavy press of that world without colour or light. The stone felt light in his hands, as if the weight of its capabilities escaped its form. Without so much as a word, or thought, he pressed the point to the stone of the ring, parting the darkness that shrouded its form.

The thick veil was pierced as the shadows burned away, the mangled soul that resided in the ring fled at the touch of this stone that Snape held so cautiously in his hands. If such ease of destruction of Horcruxes lay within its realm of ability, then Snape could not dismiss its potential for harm just because it had never done so in the past.

He dropped the stone as the task completed, feeling the world of colours and unfiltered sound crash back down upon him. Those piercing eyes that watched so intently took back on its intense blue, and Dumbledore's wizened hands reached out for the ring and slipped it on without a hint of caution upon his motion.

Snape winced at the sight despite knowing he had untangled the curse. The memory of those blackened fingers pressed to the fore of his mind, and his Slytherin caution could not be quietened so easily. But thankfully, no curse unleashed, and those ancient fingers remained thankfully clear of tainted colour.

A prospect not lost on Dumbledore, as he turned about his hands to observe the silent ring. "I gave you a task that was neigh impossible, but you found another path to your goal. The fabled Slytherin resourcefulness."

"The triumph was entirely serendipitous," Snape replied as he sat back in his seat, content that he would not be required for an emergency magical amputation.

"And you have made available to us a new weapon against the darkness." The alchemical curio was in the old man's hand once more, turned between his weathered fingers without a hint of caution. No doubt the world-changing shift in reality took no hold upon his touch, else wisdom, or even curiosity, might give him pause upon the monochrome threshold. Or perhaps not, considering how foolhardy he had broached upon the ring that had once brought about his life-ending curse.

"Do you see anything?" Snape inquired, his black eyes watching the stone that glistened back a similar shade.

Dumbledore glanced up from the stone. "Is there something I should be seeing?"

If he saw it, he would not be asking. "A world without light… or colour. Where life shines as bright as any beacon."

"Why that is marvellously poetic, Severus, but you must forgive me for being unable to see it beyond its metaphor." Dumbledore responded lightly, but his blue eyes drew with greater intensity to the stone within his grasp.

"Then it is confirmed. It reacts in my hands in a way that nobody else seemed to be able to replicate." Snape dipped his head, the realisation bringing with it its own world of concerns.

Those blue eyes were on him again. For a moment, the old man appeared to ponder these words, before finally leaning back into his high-backed chair. "Ah. You used a memory that has no place in this world."

"Yes," Snape nodded as a frown creased his brows, "Death is what I used, visions of the other side. I can only assume there has been no record of stones of similar properties or make."

"No. In the history of Alchemy, this is unique." Dumbledore stood from where he sat, pacing to the window to cast his eyes out over the dusk-painted grounds, his brow carrying thoughts heavier than simple academic ponderings.

Snape turned his eyes back down to the stone, his suspicions evoking his curiosity against all caution. "You are far better entrenched in this craft than I am. What do you believe I have created?"

Silence answered those words, and for the longest time Dumbledore's attention held naught but that black shard before it. But slowly, those blue eyes blinked, as those wizened hands set down that stone carefully upon the polished oak desk. "Focus stones do not in themselves affect the world as magical artefacts do. It brings the untouchable reality within reach of those willing to grasp for it. It is not a tool, more a bridge."

"And the memories are both the stones that forms it, and the cables upon which it suspends." Snape muttered, completing that fanciful metaphor. "If after two years of education in this craft I cannot grasp even this simple concept then you have wasted your investment."

Those blue eyes twinkled in unspoken approval, "Then I feel most secure in allowing the mystery to rest in your capable hands." He slid the black crystal back across the table which Snape received with careful manipulation and sealed it in its intended satchel without a word. "Which brings me to an order of business I wish to address today, Severus." Dumbledore's voice took on a solemn tone, one that cautioned Snape with every fibre of his Slytherin being. "Graduation draws near, and I would like to know what plans you have for the encroaching world beyond."

Another welfare check upon his spotty future? "Potioneering is unarguably my strongest foundation, and likely it would make for my surest path forward," Snape answered, his black eyes glancing over those blue ones, finding himself unable to meet them truly.

There were no true answers to this unknown destination, only directions upon which way he intended to walk. And as a man of clear and titled goals, Snape loathed this feeling. A fumbling concern he had been spared the first time around by the horrors of his choices, and the mercy of the man before him, now riding upon his mind as surely as it would upon any one of his peers.

"Perhaps, I could venture a suggestion?" The lightness upon Dumbledore's tone rankled suspicions. "Professor Slughorn had bemoaned his hardships and anticipated retirement since we were both young men within this institution." Snape's eyes narrowed. "I believe we might be drawing towards a time where such a notion might be appropriately humoured, given that a potion master of worth could be found to-"

"I'll stop you right there, Dumbledore," Snape snapped, refusing to allow this farce to draw to its conversational conclusion. "I have been given a second chance at life and by Merlin's graces I'll not be wasting it in that hellish role!"

A twinkle touched those blue eyes, amusement perhaps. "Could I first remind you of the amenities that comes with a Professor role, the pay for one would be more than adequate to live off and far superior to any graduate positions you could have otherwise obtained."

"Graduate position? Professorship should _not_ be a graduate position." Snape ground through gritted teeth. "It should not be granted to anyone below the age of twenty-three."

With a gentle smile, Dumbledore acknowledged this before amending, "I am well aware. Tom had been denied by my predecessor for that very flaw. But twenty-three is not ironclad, Minerva had been hired at twenty-one. And it seemed so had you."

"Twenty-one had been enough for us to gain the experience we needed." Snape muttered, realising exactly where the flaw in his argument lay.

That twinkle in those blue eyes told warned him that slip did not pass by the headmaster either as he set his empty teacup upon the desk with a clink. "How fortunate it is then, that you appear to be uniquely experienced for this role. I dare say, perfectly so."

"You've seen how badly I took to teaching. You should know better," Snape growled, hating to be forced to admit this.

The smile slipped from the headmaster's eyes as he leaned forward. "I would be inclined to agree with you in regards to your methods as a teacher. But as a Head of House, you were precisely what Slytherin needed. Perhaps now, more than ever."

"And I'm to trade the freedom of my future for the security of your school? I am already fighting your war, leave me some peace in my life."

"And peace you shall have, Severus. As well protection from the darkness beyond these walls. For both you, and your young wife." Snape's eyes narrowed at those words, challenging those words to be formed with underlying threat. Dumbledore folded his hands as if to take a step back as he clarified his words. "I would offer all I can no matter your agreement in this proposal, Severus. And if nothing else would sway you to my sincerity, then at least believe I require you alive for more than just sentimental reasons. In that I would be far more reassured to know you are close at hand."

Silence fell between them, heavy with thought and unspoken considerations made to a decision Snape had thought laid to rest. No path in his previous life had taken him close to happiness, and he had been adamant he wished to avoid anything close to semblance of decisions he had once made. Teaching was a decision made on his behalf, forced upon him when there were no greater alternatives to be had, and he had regarded this portion of his life with appropriate loathing.

He had said it to himself many times in the past. If given the chance he would have made other choices. Choices that pointed him away from the darkness and opened the world to his abilities. No longer would he bear the sins of a Death Eater, and marking himself unemployable in the legitimate wizarding world. Opportunities to explore that had never before been his to reach for.

But those blue eyes watched him calmly, touched by concern but free of judgement. Reminding him of all the oaths he had made. The duties he chose to uphold. The two lifetimes of debts he was only beginning to repay.

His life was not his own to live, and happiness was never his to pursue, but somehow it had found him regardless. And he was no longer so arrogant as to believe it was owed to him, as he once had as a child. The mentality that had knocked his life so far off course.

He could not shake the thought that perhaps this lifetime was not about pursuing what he desired, but what he needed to be.

* * *

A/N: I personally can't see Snape as anything else other than a Professor. Nor could I see Lily ever letting him live this down.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 26th January 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 52: Set Free Upon the World**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	52. Set Free Upon the World

**Chapter 52: Set Free Upon the World**

With exams looming dangerously upon the horizon, distraction was absolutely the last thing the student body needed. But true to form the fates conspire against efficiency, and Snape's general patience. The basilisk incident had only begun to fade in the minds of these children in favour of exam stress when reporters began showing up unsolicited upon school grounds.

"Photographer from the Daily Prophet. Just one moment- of your- time." A small portly man with a feathered fedora huffed. His camera bouncing up and down around his neck as he scrambled to keep up with Snape's longer strides.

Without sparing a glance, Snape hurried down the path to the green house, leaving the less gainly man to fall behind. But as he crossed the apex of the hill it seemed his attempt to escape the attention was a wish in vain. He was met with a woman dressed in ostentatiously fancy robes, armed with a notebook and a floating quill.

"Rita Skeeter from the Daily Prophet. Charmed to finally meet you, Mr Snape." She announced with a flourishing extension of her hand. Snape sneered at her long painted fingernails and passed her without another moment's regard. But unfortunately, like many of the reporters he's encountered throughout these harrowing few days, she was proving tenacious.

"I can see you're in a hurry. Perhaps we should postpone the interview for later. When would be your best convenience?" She insisted, so presumptuously. Snape averted his eyes and hurried to the waiting group of students before the greenhouse, for once glad for the clamorous crowd and noise.

"Just a quote then! One quote!" The woman insisted as she pushed students apart roughly, pursuing her quarry relentlessly.

He hurried to Lily's side, who met his eyes with upraised brows as he ducked his head and attempted to meld into her circle of friends. Unfortunately the reporter remained unfooled, forcing herself between McKinnon and a Ravenclaw girl whose name slipped Snape's mind for the moment and proceeded with her unrelenting hounding.

"You have accrued quite a fanbase, I see. Well I'm sure you won't mind one more lovely lady to add to your collection." She flattered, herself mostly, as she elbowed aside the study blond Gryffindor surprisingly easily to fit her quill and notepad into the crush of bodies.

"Can I help you?" Lily glared pointedly at the intruding reporter.

To whom the woman peered over her bauble encrusted glasses with a most despising of appraisals. "Oh that is darling of you to offer, but I'm looking to interview this young man, not the leader of the Quidditch cheer squad."

Snape's glare be more venomous, but before he could respond with select words, Lily's hands went about the crook of his arm. "Oh you mean my husband?"

"Husband you say? Your name is?" Her quill sat up straight upon the notepad, as if finally anticipating some toil to come.

He could see his wife's lips curl with a devious smile. "Oh surely you're not interested in the Quidditch cheer squad leader." and with that she turned away, arm still linked with Snape's, headed inside through the green house doors that had just unlocked.

"Aren't you just bathing in the limelight?" Lily teased as they stepped past the bed of budding Devil's Snare.

With a scowl, Snape shook his head mutely, too weary to speak. After one last squeeze of her hand, he melted from her side and headed for his station. Lester would be left partnerless if he chose to indulge himself in Lily's company every lesson, and few sights bother him more in recent times than that of a lone Slytherin.

"Heya, Snape. The life of fame and heroics not suiting you?" the muggle boy asked as he approached, much too cheekily for Snape's patience.

"This is our last Herbology lesson before exams, I would rather we not waste our attention upon anything else." Snape growled as he set out his spade and clippers.

Without another word to the contrary, Lester did as he was told. The boy could always seem to know when Snape was vexed, a skill with empathy that seemed a survival trait for living so long in a hostile environment. Though far more confident with himself and his place in Slytherin as of late, he never tried to push any envelopes with Snape, a trait the frustrated young man was quite thankful for.

"To your stations everyone! Gloves on please! Pip pip!" Professor Sprout called as she waddled down to the front of the class, shooing away the tendrils that tried to sneak about her portly neck.

"This will be our last Herbology lesson together. My how time flies." She beamed brightly about the room, radiating sincerity from every pore. "Why I could still remember when you could all barely reach the hanging pots, now look at you all. Young blooms within adulthood, ready to face the world. I hope the lessons and friendships you have forged within your journey with us will stay with you for the ages to come." Several Hufflepuffs beamed brightly, quite taken by this expression of quite tacky sentiment. "But first, I think we can all agree we should set our sights, and our focus to the more tangible future. Namely exams." A loud groan erupted from the Gryffindor side of the room, not at all keen to be reminded.

Without being beckoned twice, Snape produced his swathes of Herbology notes and got ready for a hearty revision. No matter how well versed he was in this subject, he left no knowledge gaps to chance when it came down to the subjects that built his greatest strengths and future endeavours. Herbology was one of the cornerstones of potioneering, and any potioneer worth their salt could hold their own in any garden.

Beside him, however, Lester set aside his bag without removing any article of writing or revision materials, instead fetching a watering can and a pair of clippers from the supply shed of student tools.

"The exam is to be theoretical, not practical," Snape cautioned as the boy returned to their shared workbench with tools in tow.

"I know," Lester replied as he set his supplies out before him. "But I thought I should give my Devil's Snare one last prune."

Snape could only glare at the boy with narrowed eyes as he returned with his pot of writhing tendrils under its darkened shroud. Much like most mushrooms, the Devil's Snare grew best in moist, dark environments, but unlike most fungus, it pursued darkness more than moisture. The plant possessed a photosensitivity unmatched in the botanical world, so much so, that even accidental exposure could potentially kill it or permanently stunt it during its seedling phase. Only after it coated itself in its mass of writhing tendrils does accidental exposure become non-permanent.

But that portion of their assignment was over, graded and shoved to the side of the greenhouse as finals prep began. And to that Snape could not fathom why any portion of students would waste any more time on a project that had no potential to garner them any further grades. "I understand you may be as adept in this field as a Hufflepuff, but emulating their behaviour to such a disturbing degree does nothing to emulate their academic affinity in this craft."

Without even pausing at Snape's withering assessment, Lester proceeded to charm his watering can full. "I've raised it from a seedling and cared for it all year. It sort of feels like a goodbye to a friend, you know?"

"It reeks of Hufflepuff nonsense to me," Snape grumbled as he drew his notes under his nose, content to ignore his bench partner's eccentricities, briefly swatting away an encroaching tendril with a spark from his wand.

Across the greenhouse, flowerpots sat atop of Hufflepuff desks as they tended to their tactile plants in a much similar fashion. A ridiculous set of broken priorities. But the Hufflepuffs were always the uncontested champions of the botanical realm, a fact that seemed to see them popular with their Ravenclaw counterparts. There was at least one Ravenclaw girl that insisted in keeping to a desk of badgers every Herbology lesson.

Snape could only shake his head as he set his eyes back to his scroll length of notes, ignoring the tentacles flailing from the covered pot, or the boy trying to clip off its spurs without being strangled in retaliation.

"How could you not love a plant that can give you a hug?" Lester joked, or at least Snape hoped he was joking, as he wrestled the tendrils from around his neck.

"Yet again you force me to wonder why you were sorted into Slytherin in the first place." Snape growled without breaking concentration from his text. Studying names that he had already spent another lifetime memorising and associating them with their most favourable growing conditions.

Wrestling the first length of tendrils back under the tarp, Lester coaxed out another, allowing it to latch onto his wrist as he worked his way down its length with the clippers, clipping off the growth anomalies. "I like gardening, I used to help mum with her garden back before I knew magic existed." he recounted as he smoothed the tendrils with impressive efficiency. "My dad was a big-name chemist that fellowed at some big-name university. It put a lot of pressure on me and my brother to live up to expectations. Gardening isn't a very manly occupation in the muggle world…"

Snape barely spared a glance from his notes of already claimed knowledge. "Seems you had been sorted too soon. You should have been a Hufflepuff."

"Honestly? Thought the same… not too long ago. Why was I sorted into Slytherin? For the longest time, I couldn't get that thought from my head." Lester confessed with a wry smile, his clippers pausing upon the tendril flapping aggressively about his wrist. "But then… you found a place for me. Amongst people who had never given me the time of day… Changed a House that was never welcoming to the likes of me and mine." He grimaced as he shook the tendrils away, as if the plant's meagre strength as a sprout could amount to discomfort. "I just can't help but think… it's a pity that from next year on you'll no longer be here to guide them."

Snape paused upon his knowledge check list of near-sentient plants. "Surely they have the basic mental alacrity to find their own way forward." he murmured, his voice devoid of the thoughts stirred from his mired mind.

Lester shrugged as he returned his clippers to the bundle of tendrils that entwined about each of his fingers. "I suppose you're right. I mean you made quite the impression on everyone these past two years. And there are definitely a few in our lower years that won't forget what you tried to do. But Slytherin always had a history of forgetting their fellows in the face of ambitions…"

Troubled thoughts dipped Snape's brows, but he kept his head dipped and eyes to his scrolls. Had he not known better he would have thought Lester privy to the decision that plagued him.

"Don't think just because of a few children's insecurities that I'll repeat another year." Snape growled, his black eyes glaring upwards to Lester's, reaching out with a flick of his Legilimency. No touch of true knowledge sat at the fore of the boy's mind. Perhaps it could sit further within his mind, shielded carefully by barriers of will, but that may be giving too much credit to the boy's wiles, and too little to the secretive nature of Albus Dumbledore.

With a flourish, Lester shook off the writhing tendrils, now pruned clean of growth abnormalities. "Yeah, you're right. I didn't mean anything by it, Snape." He grimaced sheepishly, glancing sidelong to his glowering tablemate, not at all taken aback by the less-than-friendly expression. It seemed Snape was no longer regarded as intimidating in this boy's eyes, nor the eyes of many of his peers save for a few of the younger years. His reputation had been a casualty of his effort it seemed, and should he take on the role of professor once again…

He gritted his teeth and lowered his eyes to his scroll, banishing that wayward thought from his mind. He will _not_ be reprising that hated role under his own volition. Absolutely not! Had he been given a choice in his previous life he would have taken it without a second's spare thought. And here he was, with the freedom of choice, and foolishly indulging his masochistic mind.

"But for what it's worth, thank you." Lester's voice lanced through his thoughts, and he lifted his eyes to that boy's awkward twisted smile. "You made a huge difference to my life. And I don't want you to think for a moment that I'm not grateful for it."

"You're welcome," Snape mumbled, tearing his eyes away. Willing his focus back onto his work, and not the unwelcome intrusion of thoughts unwanted. That pondering reach of a voice that had made a place in his mind in this lifetime that he had never known in his last.

The voice that spoke not for himself, but for others…

* * *

"That _**vile**_ woman!" Lily slammed her newspaper onto the table, sending plates rattling and photographs fleeing from their frames as orange juice splattered onto the black and white pages.

Marlene steadied the glass of pumpkin juice that rattled to the edge. Saved by the Ace-Chaser's split-second reflex that helped retain Gryffindor the House Cup this year. "Whoa there, Lil's. Don't hold it against breakfast."

Lily straightened her own plate of half-eaten egg scramble, red and puffing while Remus winced from across the table. "I guess I shouldn't have shown it to you then…" he mumbled, trying to fetch the abused rag from across the table.

The paper actually belonged to James, who subscribed to the paper in recent months to keep up with the news of the goings on in the outside world. However, currently he was less than interested in what happened to his paper; instead his attention was on a bulky package that had been flown in alongside the paper, hauled by a massive owl. But rather than open it at the table right then and there as he usually wont to, he sat it upon the bench beside him as he continued his breakfast with a concerned frown upon his brow.

It was down to Remus to rescue the morning rag he had lent to Lily by error of his own judgement; the paper which she held just out of reach, glaring at the headline with disbelief. "'Shallow Muggle Girl Seduces Protector of Slytherin for Gain and Protection.' Excuse me?" And underneath that was a fancifully written article about their friendship through their school years, albeit with a vicious twist that made her seem like she had him strung along to profit from his prodigy then dug her nails into him the moment fame and profit had found him.

That little photograph of Severus pinned to the article showed him seemingly caught unawares but glowering regardless as if with shared kinship with her state of mind. Unlike the real article sitting on the other end of the breakfast hall, tucking into his porridge with his usual amount of enthusiasm.

If Lily was having a bad time with this, surely that's nothing compared to how he would be feeling to know his face was now plastered across the morning paper distributed all across magical Britain. His drab grey and faded robes, peppered with tears and nicks and stitches, and with a great gash stretching across his torso that had him so ashamed to partake in student life for, splashed across the front page for all to see.

"How did she even know half the details in here?" Lily beseeched, glaring at the running paragraph that described the events of Sev's humiliation by the lakeside, told with relishing authorial flourish. Adding to the growing list of offences committed against his private person.

Marlene visibly winced as she glanced down at the offending section. "Yeah… we didn't manage to keep the reporters and Susan separated. Sorry."

Lily threw a withering look at the harpy down the table, still yapping away to the quietly oblivious Pandora, likely retaining none of what was being said. It seemed to be a similar trait shared by brilliant minds, the ability to dredge the trash and retain only what was important.

"He'll be on the warpath when he finds out… Don't tell Sev it was Susan who sold him out," Lily finally relented with a sigh.

"Big of you to spare her," Marlene muttered through a bite of egg and ham. "I personally would have hexed her to next year."

A sentiment Lily could wholeheartedly agree with. "Oh it's not for her sake. I just don't want Sev to be expelled so close to graduation, and murder doesn't look good on his resume."

"Oh I reckon he's crafty enough to get away with it," Marlene quipped back lightly. Evidently she was still resenting the various spates of privacy breaches perpetrated by said girl in her recent past.

But morning murder conspiracies was suddenly interrupted by one tawny owl that swooped in, well after the morning post flock had dispersed, bearing one single letter straight down to the Gryffindor table. Lily blinked as it landed before her and offered an envelope made with expensive reed weave and stamped with a golden wax seal.

She accepted the letter with confused hesitation, and the owl took off without another moment's concern. At first glance she had been so sure it had been delivered to her by mistake until she saw the name of the sender printed upon the back.

'Damocles Belby.'

Morning concerns cast aside, Lily broke open the wax seal with a squeak of excitement. She had sent Severus' revised Wolfsbane recipe to the Potion Master months ago and hadn't heard back since. She had long given up on a response, chalking it down to time seldom spent upon theories posed by untested ungraduated youths.

Marlene leaned over to glance over her shoulder, curiosity drawing her in. But before her best friend could get a grasp of the context by herself, Lily snapped her into a sudden and startling hug.

"Oh my goodness!" She squealed with breathy delight.

"What?" Marlene asked, understandably confused as her best friend gave her best attempt at a crushing hug.

Lily withdrew, taking a deep breath to centre her fluttering thoughts that scattered with her excitement. "A few months ago I wrote to Damocles Belby the amendments Sev had made to his potion."

"Damocles?" Remus perked up from across the table. "Creator of Wolfsbane?"

"The very one," Lily confirmed, as Marlene's confusion began clearing up. The name of even the greatest of potioneers rang no immediate bells of recognition within the girl but give her even the most obscure of Quidditch associates and she'd regurgitate their achievements like textbook entries. James, even Black, leaned in with interest, having a little bit of a personal investment in the topic.

"Well he just wrote back," Lily continued with barely contained excitement, waving her letter about as if to highlight that fact. "And he liked it! He's incorporating it into the official formula!"

Marlene could barely stop herself rolling her eyes. "Well yeah." As if that was a complete given that every achievement should be justly accoladed.

"But not just that." Lily could barely keep the bubbling excitement civilised. "He wants to apprentice Severus!"

The silence that emanated from her friends was not that of indifference, but of muted pondering. As if the reality of what had been just uttered had not yet caught up to their understanding. But true to form, it was Remus for who the penny first dropped. "You mean Snape's already got a job offer?"

That woke the group up. "Not just a job offer, but an apprenticeship with a brewer recipient of the Order of Merlin Second Class," Peter breathed. His potioneering interest running a little deeper than the rest of his friends.

"Did he really? Is it actually because of the Wolfsbane?" Remus seemed genuinely surprised that the effort to ease the considerable suffering of his kind was worthy of any type of acknowledgement from the wider world. Tragically cynical of his own true worth to a world that had shunned him from the day he was bitten.

"Think it's more for the achievement of protecting everybody else from you lot, if truth be told." Black replied, likely meant with a cynical tone.

Remus almost physically drooped in his seat, prompting his friend to scramble to rephrase. "I mean you know those lot. Nothing on you, mate, but they'd never push an award out for benefits to anyone even the least bit unfortunate in life." Remus cracked a wan smile, at the very least appreciative of his friend's efforts.

"We can all agree that Order of Merlin is well deserved," James finally pitched in with a solemn nod. "And with someone as skilled as Snape working as his second, I can only see good things happening for this potion's development. In the future, perhaps nearer rather than distant, help will be available to all the cursed unfortunates, and not just you, Remus."

"That would be a blessing," Remus relented wholeheartedly.

Marlene, finally polishing off her plate, leant in with a cocked brow. "Wait, does this Damoco guy even know the guy that went over his potion recipe with a correcting quill isn't even graduated?"

"I would think so. I'm pretty sure I mentioned it." Lily answered, wracking her brain from months ago. "In fact I'm pretty certain I did. I definitely wrote about how he would brew it on weekends and between classes."

"Giving up the ghost about the wolf in the kennel?" Marlene pressed with a slanted smile, painting her tone only half as serious as the implications.

Lily stilled in her seat. "I hadn't thought of that."

But Remus was uncharacteristically relaxed about the idea of being outed by implications. "Nobody's come for my pelt yet."

"A man who dedicated his life to granting a measure of relief to those that have none likely isn't the kind that would start witch-hunts, pardon the euphemism." James agreed with that sentiment.

"And imagine a do-gooder like that with sunny-old-Snape as his apprentice," Black uttered with a bark of laughter. "Either the champion of the unfortunate will take a sudden and unprecedented interest in poisons, or Snape's going to learn how to be a human being."

Lily felt a bubble of irritation at Marlene's chuckles, but before she could put Black in his place, James leapt to her husband's defence. "Don't be like that, Padfoot. He doesn't deserve that anymore," James muttered in an oddly muted voice, his hand flying almost reflexively to the package by his side, but then he hesitated and brought it through his hair in his usual motion. "I mean he killed a Basilisk, mate. If that's not worthy of respect what is?"

Black could not roll his eyes back further. "What's got your bollocks in a twist? You've been about as fun as half a flobberworm since the whole Basilisk thing wrapped up. We're all disappointed about missing out but you're taking it a little too hard."

James looked momentarily uncomfortable. "It's not that…" he muttered, shifting in his seat, prompting even his girlfriend to turn an appraising eye on him. "Just… stop mocking him alright?"

But all he managed was a dour look from his best friend. "Just having some fun, sheesh."

"Not at his expense. Not anymore," James demanded, adamantly. Black and Peter exchanged a glance but said not a word more, while Remus tucked his head behind his juice glass to hide his smile.

Lily too buried her smile behind her breakfast, as perplexed as it was. Though James had been holding steady in civility with Severus these past two years, it was the first he had ever taken such a stance with even his friends, and though Lily knew ultimately it didn't change the bad blood stoked of the past, at the very least this was the promise of the future.

This mood followed Lily throughout the rest of the morning, chasing away the righteous fury this day had started with. She had a skip in her step, even as she wound her way to the library with a heavy backpack, ready to make her final nerve-wracking revisions. Severus was finishing off the starting steps of the brew this morning, missing out on his last minute revisions that was so precious to those from Gryffindor. In all honesty, however, Sev probably didn't need it, the studious guy that he was. Applying himself hard and steadily throughout the year like some aberration of nature.

But along the way to the library, she stepped past the ruined archway, the first floor girl's bathroom. Her mood stuttered as her eyes were drawn to the damaged doorway, the soft golden glow of a magical barrier preventing access to the gaping maw that opened in the midst of the cluster of sinks.

She had heard Sev fought the beast within the school, but the damage of the battle had been mostly cleaned by the time school had resumed. The bustle of school life hadn't given her a moment to simply stop and poke around, just take in what had occurred, and had almost taken from her life.

Severus had stood where she stood, and faced a great beast of legendary deadliness, and won. But by the barest of margins. She drew near to the translucent barrier, holding her hand out to the thrum of power generated by the protective threshold of one of the Professors. Feeling the power crackle just on the edge of her fingertips.

"Can't get passed it. I've tried."

Lily almost jumped out of her skin and a pair of rough hands reached out and steadied her before she could tumble face first into the barrier and no doubt bounce right off backwards.

"Whoa, steady there, Lily." James grinned with sheepish amusement as he set her back onto her feet.

"You're not meant to come into the girl's bathroom," she blurted out as the first thoughts to enter her head. Not only did she fail to steady, but also to arrange her priorities.

James didn't hold it against her. "Sorry. Didn't mean to scare you."

"Who's scared?" Lily muttered a little red in the face. Jumping at the sound of a voice when Severus had stood where she stood and faced down a great dirty snake. Gryffindor nerves of absolute brittle rust. "You weren't meant to be in here, anyway," she muttered with an almost petulant air.

"I promise you I didn't go in for rule-breaking purposes," James returned, almost solemnly. "I need to have a private word with you-"

"Well the bathroom is not the place for it," Lily harrumphed.

"Oh I agree." James motioned for them to step out, and after a moment more of contrary hesitance, Lily followed him into the hall way. "Let's just find somewhere quiet to speak."

"Not the library then."

"You know me so well."

A grin touched Lily's lips, her mood too easily won over. "Alright then, I know a place."

The alcove was only a stone's throw away from where the showdown must have taken place, because the smell of burnt hair still clung to the air in some strange fey way. Lily stepped into the cool darkness and beckoned for James to follow, only to have him deposit comfortably onto the bench as if making himself right at home. "Came here once with Marlene. She mentioned you showed it to her."

"Then I'm glad you cleaned up after yourselves."

James chuckled. "I don't remember you being so comfortable dishing out dirty jokes." He ran his hand through his hair in an almost coy motion. "Things really have changed a lot very quickly…"

A soft smile touched Lily's lips. She could definitely remember a time when even the mere hint of suggestiveness sent her into a fit of blushing; same of which could be said of any of her friends. "I guess we all grew up." she murmured.

"I suppose we did. Perhaps Snape most of all…" He grimaced as Lily turned a quizzical eye upon him.

He then quickly stood and procured something from his pocket. With a tap of the wand stripped it of its shrinking enchantment. It was that brown package he had received that morning, and Lily could only look on with curiosity as James set to unwrapping it before her.

"I had this… arranged… a few weeks ago. But I'm at a loss as to how to give it to him." He tore away the paper to reveal a fine swaddle of black fabric that folded out into a set of black school robes, emblazoned with the Slytherin crest. "I didn't quite know his size… but I was assured by my tailor that the fabric is easily fine enough to bear shrinking and extension spells without wearing."

"Oh my goodness." Lily reached out to pinch the material, light and soft beneath her fingers. In her mind's eye she was already imagining Severus garbed in this, standing straight and proud amongst his fellows. No longer ashamed of his scrappy appearance. But…

Lily grimaced knowing in her heart of hearts of his terrible pride and ardent dislike of the man standing before her. "This is wonderful, James. But Severus would never accept it."

"I know." He swaddled the fabric back up into a roughly folded ball, then held it out to her. "That's why I hoped you might lie about who gave it to you."

Lily's eyebrows pinched into a frown, reluctant to even touch the gift. "Thank you, James, but…"

But before she could say another word, James held out a hand to silence her. "I didn't do this to be thanked, or for acknowledgement, or even for forgiveness, because Merlin knows that's never going to happen. And I fully accept it. I was a little shit, and I shouldn't have done what I did to Snape, even when he was a shit himself." He ran his fingers through his hair in a casual air, but his eyes were downcast with a shadow of a grimace upon his lips. "I suppose it's… atonement? That's not right either. More like… trying to do right. Because he's a hero now, and he shouldn't look any less." He deposited the bundle into Lily's hands. "So get this to him, alright? Make him feel like he's earned it, because he has. And make sure he never has to wear those scrappy robes ever again."

Lily didn't reply, she didn't know what to say. Her fingers worried the fabric as her mind struggled with the conflicting emotions. Gratitude to James, and turmoil over Severus' reception.

"I'll take that as an, 'I'll try,'" James quipped with a light smile. Without another word he retreated from the alcove, leaving Lily with the burden of the gift.

* * *

"Enter," Snape bade to the knock at his laboratory door. Evening was drawing near, and there were few people who would still be out and about so close to curfew. And fewer still would be so bold the day before the beginning of exams.

But boldness had always been one of the vices of Gryffindors, and his wife had never been an exemption. He didn't bat an eyelid when Lily walked in, skating so close to curfew it would make a Hufflepuff's toes curl.

"Tomorrow is the beginning of the final gauntlet. You should be resting." Snape reprimanded lightly as he sent the soiled utensils into the wash basin with a flick of his wand.

With a flash of a smile, Lily pulled up his stool to sit on, learning upon the newly cleaned bench, her robes fitting her discernibly oddly this evening. "Aww, can't I come down to visit my favourite guy? I missed you," she said ever so sweetly, eliciting a bubble of satisfaction in Snape's chest.

"I trust you have revised sufficiently?" he continued, running his own hands through the icy water that poured out of a fountain carved in the shape of a gargoyle's mouth.

Lily nodded vigorously, "And finished reading the final two chapters for the Charms exam tomorrow."

Snape arched one black eyebrow across the table. "By this point of the year you should not be picking up new knowledge but rehashing the old."

"Oh pish." she waved him off, not taking his words seriously in the least. "I'm ready. That's what matters."

"Your confidence is inspiring, if not a seemingly misplaced." Snape dried his hands upon a cloth and promptly dried that cloth with a tap of his wand.

"Aren't you just a little ray of sunshine?" Lily grumbled as she stepped into his personal space, placing both hands upon his chest as he turned to face her. "Then how about a kiss for luck?"

He all too eagerly leant in, despite all too grounded in the knowledge that luck does not exist for tampering with, and if it did, kisses would not influence it. Or perhaps it had. For had his luck not turned for miraculous beyond his wildest expectations from that first kiss he had shared with the woman he loved. Indeed the first true kiss of his two lifetimes.

"So you can break some rules, huh?" she murmured against his lips, feeling a smile curl upon hers.

He withdrew to narrow his eyes upon her cheeky grin, so proud as to have caught him in apparent hypocrisy. "The laboratory is my domain and its rules are rules I elected myself, and thus know their purpose and enforce their bounds. There is no potion for you to spoil tonight, Lily, and I have cleaned purposefully of all contamination." He was not going to let her tease him tonight, he did not need to engage his exams distracted beyond reprieve.

"Oh I do not dispute it." Lily giggled, as she patted her hands down upon his chest again. "The realm of potioneering had always been your domain to rule."

But then her smile seemed to widen. She withdrew from his personal space as if prepared to reign herself in. To act the well-behaved young woman he knew she was not. But then her brows dipped into an arched exuberance changing the sincerity of her smile. "And very soon you'll make your mark upon the potioneering world, leaving wonder and awe in your wake."

"Again your confidence is inspiring, and I can only hope to ensure that it is not entirely misplaced." Snape murmured, attempting to close their distance once more. But she stepped back to evade his approach, with one hand held out in a gesture of patience.

"How about you not try to ruin the mood every time I try to give a little build up," Lily quipped, her lips pressed together in mock annoyance. "Wanted a little more pomp and ceremony for what I'm about to give you."

Now Snape was really curious. "Is that what you're trying to conceal down your robe front?" he asked with a nod to the not-so discrete change in bulge about her chest that he had been trying to politely ignore. He knew her a little too intimately now to mistake that for the real article.

"How your eyes wander so." she grinned so sweetly as he arched his eyebrows. He would not be made to feel the pervert after she had baited him so.

But rather than reveal what she had concealed within her top, she pulled a letter from her pocket. "For you, Sev."

He frowned as he took it from her, noting very clearly her name marked upon the receiver's side. "Evidentially, it was originally for you." he muttered as he turned the envelope in his hands, only to pause upon the sender's name. "Damocles Belby…" and understanding took him without needing to read the contents. "He's responded to my amended recipe positively then," he stated more than asked.

"How you underestimate your esteem," she said with a sweet smile.

His brows knitted together then as he edged out the thick woven parchment, unfolding the letter to briefly scan. But then he paused upon the mention of himself. A request for introduction, and an offer of apprenticeship. Too talented to waste upon mediocre masters, it had said. Care had to be taken to ensure potential is reached, it declared.

And Snape could only glance up from that letter with hooded eyes as he met the smiling excitement of his wife, slipping from within her robe front a crumpled and hastily folded bundle of dark fabric.

Snape accepted that too without question, his mind too full to be critical of what he had been handed, until he unfolded it with a shake and found a black set of Slytherin branded school robes within his grasp.

His black eyes fixed upon his wife, who suddenly had a nervous air about her. She nibbled her lower lip and her lips curled in a smile fraught with some unknowable emotion. "I wanted you to finish your school days in robes that aren't tattered and falling apart. Something that befits a hero."

"Lily… Thank you for your kind thoughts but… we can't afford this." Snape folded the robes back neatly, feeling the soft fabric between his fingers. How similar it had been to the school robes he was gifted by Lucius a lifetime ago, and how expensive he knew it had been.

"Sure we can. You have a job waiting for you straight out of graduation," Lily insisted, pointing at the letter grasped in his hand.

He folded the letter and replaced it into the envelope, his mind heavy with uncomfortable thought. "Regardless, an apprentice's pocket would not be as so full as to be able to afford such luxuries. Whatever you paid for this, Lily, it will not be worth the extra hardships we will face as graduates."

 _But a professor's pocket is nowhere as shallow…_

With a grimace Snape chased that thought from his mind as he refolded the robes and held it back to Lily. "Please. We can't afford this."

"Well it's not ours to afford." she returned with a stubborn step backwards out of reach. "It was a gift… from one of your friends."

Snape frowned at the bundle in his hands, a list of names and faces passing through his mind, a short list to be sure. "And he is?"

"Anonymous," she said with a wave of her hand, as if his curiosity could be swayed by a gesture.

"Not to you, however." His eyes narrowed, this whole affair feeling off to him.

Her brows knitted together, eyes unable to meet his, worrying her soft pink lips with her pretty white teeth. "I was asked not to tell you…"

"And I ask you to tell me," Snape insisted, not letting up.

"And will that make a difference?" Lily asked as she approached again, laying one hand upon his chest and giving pause to his critical mind. "Which friend it came from?"

His lips pressed together in a thin line, his mind weighing against his heart and his pride. "I cannot abide charity," he mumbled, willing her to understand.

"I know. Don't think of it that way." Lily hastily reassured, a hopeful smile upon her lips. Her fingers trailing down the rough seam of his frayed greying robes. "Think of it as… sponsorship."

Snape could not help his sigh. "Parrying with my own words. Sometimes I wonder if you realise how truly Slytherin you seem."

Her smile widened, seeming to sense his relent. "What can I say? You have been quite a prominent influence on my life." She leaned in and nuzzled his neck, causing sensations to flutter pleasantly down his torso. "So will you, please?"

"Well this is hardly fair," he muttered, feeling his will erode under his rising desire. Every distraction he did not need on the eve of exams.

She withdrew quickly, a knowing smile upon her lips and a blush upon her cheeks. "Lab rules?"

"Are still in place," he growled, untangling her from his form. "And I'll appreciate you leaving my sensibilities in one piece."

"Oh I'll back off, when you agree to my terms," she said stepping forward once more, holding his morals and teenaged hormones hostage with her wiles.

Snape held out his one hand and holding the blasted charity robes with the other. "Alright. I'll wear it. For you, I'll wear it," he surrendered hastily, already feeling unpleasantly hot and flustered by just brief insinuations.

Her smile was brilliant and bereft of any of that deviousness she seemed so adept at wielding. "Well?"

"Well?" he repeated, frowning, unsure of what she was expecting of him.

But her smile took upon a devious edge once more. "Get changing."

He could only stare back at her, not quite understanding her request. Was she actually requesting that he change, in his laboratory, right in front of her, without a dressing room or other appropriate types of privacy facilities?

But her insistent eyes told him she expected that very thing, as too did her words. "Come on, Sev. No need to be shy. I've seen you disrobed countless times now."

He grimaced, feeling the heat rise once again. Struggling with words that fled him when she teased him so. "Four times," was all he was able to utter. "You have seen me disrobed only four times."

* * *

The fabric felt soft upon his skin, a touch so light that it was almost unnoticed, high end tailoring to be sure. It was such a far cry from the patchy robes that he had become so used to, he had almost forgotten what it felt to be dressed like a human being.

But all the same, Snape could not help but be self-conscious as he stepped through to the Slytherin Common Room. Eyes turned to him, curiosity, but he still couldn't help but feel the derision that came with attention, imagined or otherwise.

He lowered his eyes and marched to a vacated seat by the corner, one he frequented when he did not wish to be disturbed within the common room. Urquart occupied that space already, nose in her Charms textbook. Revising, no doubt, because if a student like Urquart couldn't keep atop of her studies then there was no hope for this generation.

Snape sunk quietly into his seat, summoning his own scrolls of notes with a flick of his wand, taken during the hours spent in the library. He had no textbook of his own to read from and relied heavily on the books he could borrow from the library.

"Nice robes," Urquart commented with barely a glance up from her textbook.

"I don't suppose you had anything to do with it," Snape muttered as he settled in to his Charms revision. He was quite comfortable with the topic but it never hurt to refresh himself.

Urquart glanced again, this time with eyebrows raised. "An anonymous benefactor?"

"How suspiciously astute of you." Snape muttered, feeling the heat rise upon his neck. He hated giving anyone the idea he was grateful for this show of charity, and more and more regretted how easily he gave in to Lily's insistence. It was difficult to think clearly when she teased him so, and it was hard to imagine that she didn't take advantage of that defect on purpose. Gryffindor she might be, but he knew better than to doubt her cunning. While Snape practiced for years the art of manipulations and misdirection, Lily seemed to know the art instinctively. And for whatever reason chose to bring to bear the full brunt of her powers upon him and him alone.

Urquart, however, could only frown at Snape's accusatory tone. "If you suspect it might be me, I lay your fears to rest. I do not go out of my way to meddle where I'm not invited, and I do not remember you ever requesting my support in procuring new garbs."

A scowl lit upon Snape's lips, his black eyes raising from his sheaths of parchment. "My wife had told me this was gifted from someone within Slytherin, and if not you then I can think of no one else within my sphere that could procure robes on short notice from high end tailors."

"Last I checked Mulciber was from a well-off pureblood family. And he seems the dense sort to poke his nose where it's not wanted," Urquart offered as she returned to her reading.

Snape considered this and dismissed it without further thought. "Even had he the mind to dedicate to anything other than his quest to catch the attention of one disinterested girl, I doubt he's in good enough standing with his family to spend so easily upon another."

"And Lester's muggle-born, not the typical sort able to solicit these tailoring services on such short notice." Urquart glanced up again, but this time with a smidge of interest upon her features. "I don't suppose one of the lower years? Rawkas looks to you with starry eyes."

"He's a half-blood. Same obstacles," Snape scowled as disturbing realisations trickled into his mind. Friend, Lily had said, she didn't necessarily say Slytherin. And even then, she might not have been entirely truthful.

He glanced down, casting his eyes down his fine black robes, feeling the smoothness of high thread count upon his skin. Feeling barely a prickle as his goose bumps raised upon his arms and bile within his throat. Realising suddenly, that there was one such pureblood that had the means and the will to spend frivolously and poke his nose into affairs in which it did not belong.

And if that were true… and that Lily would not warn him… not just that, but to go so far as to trick him into accepting it.

He stood, agitated, suddenly wishing for nothing more than to change back into the scrappy robes he knew as his own. But no, he could not. Lily had taken it after she bade him change. To have something of his to cuddle at night, she had said, very much jokingly, but the truth was likely to deprive him recourse once he realised the truth of the matter.

Cunning and manipulative, traits he could admire had she not dealt such a devastating blow to his pride with her underhanded action.

"Where are you going?" Urquart asked as she watched Snape shoved his notes back into his bag and cast it to the side. Snape scowled, refusing to even voice his agitation, when a hand braced firmly upon his shoulder.

"Its past curfew Snape," Urquart stated evenly, having intercepted the thoughts of the enraged boy before he could violate this decree.

"I thought you did not meddle in affairs you were not welcome?" Snape snapped, shaking off her grasp.

A flash of annoyance passed Urquart's dark eyes, her brows furrowed in a judging frown. "Exams are tomorrow. Can this not wait?"

"No," He hissed, turning to storm straight through the common room.

But Urquart would not let him leave in peace. Her falsely deepened voice following behind his back. "Let me guess, it must have been a gift from one of those Gryffindors you do not get along with." Snape did not honour that with an answer, but Urquart did not let up. "Now you plan to march upstairs and make a scene over it with your wife, on the eve of exams. Likely upset her state of mind going into exams over something so minor?"

"Minor?" Snape stopped in his tracks and rounded upon the following girl. "Do not presume to judge me! You cannot possibly understand. This is no gift. This is mockery!"

Her brows furrowed at his words. "Mocked you with a gift… right." To which Snape's scowl deepened.

But Urquart did not retreat from his glower. "I have heard stories about you, Snape. From before you came into prominence as someone worthy of respect."

"Heard about my humiliation at the lake, did you?" Snape spat, his boiling anger flushing away the embarrassment that would have always accompanied that memory.

She did not even blink. "I had not witnessed that incident, but I am sorry for what you must have gone through."

Pity. The one thing Snape hated above mockery. "Save your hollow words," Snape hissed.

"You're right, I cannot possibly understand. As I'm sure anybody who isn't you stands to suffer the same ignorance," she smirked as if acknowledging a dark joke that only she understood. "But let me offer you one piece of universal advice. Never make a decision while you're angry."

Snape fixed his black eyes upon this upstart girl, incredulous that she should so presume to lecture him about acting rashly. But Urquart did not shirk under his withering gaze, one of the few who could meet his eyes without their souls pouring forth.

She held out a beseeching hand, waving him back to his seat. "Calm, Snape. I say this as your friend."

"Friend?" Snape spat. "With the likes of a false man like you?"

She flinched at that. A slower blink, but noticeable to one who knew hurt intimately.

Snape's anger tapered suddenly. The realisation that he had crossed a line. A new response in his psyche, for he had cared little about what wounds he inflicted upon the heart of others.

He stood in silence for a moment more as Urquart's equally sunken eyes darted about the vicinity, confirming that even had they been overheard, the context was foreign enough not to strike any obvious interest.

With a nod to the chairs, Snape strode back to his seat, glowering at the eyes that stared up at him, no doubt alerted by his erratic behaviour. Urquart followed, her steps steady as she fell into stride. Their brief fallout unworn upon her features, holding herself in far more Slytherin conduct than anything Snape could profess in the past two minutes.

They settled back into their corner seats, as if none of such unpleasantness had passed between them. Urquart had even cracked open his textbook again and resettled upon the page she left off at. But after the passing of a few moments of silence, what was left unsaid had to be addressed.

"It seems you are correct. It is unwise to act under the influence of anger," Snape offered, stopping short of an outright apology. As undefined as their acquaintance is, she did not deserve the brunt of his anger, nor did Lily for that matter. A reminder he should not have needed.

His rage had been his weakness, stoked from the smouldering hatred he could never extinguish. That hatred was never meant for either woman this night.

Those deep-set brown eyes blinked once more slowly, gathering his thoughts, no doubt, as a good Slytherin should. It was shameful how little control Snape could have, how easily his own best qualities could be worn down by the merest touch of mockery wrought by that haughty Gryffindor boy.

Lily did not set out to humiliate him, it was not in her heart to do so. She likely believed the gesture to be of genuine kindness. Why she thought he'd want to be shown kindness of any form from that swine of a human being Snape would never fathom, but tonight was not the night to bring this to her attention, nor was this the form that encounter should take.

Slowly, the girl closed her textbook, fixing Snape with a pointed glare with her dark brown eyes. "Anger or not, is that the honest thought you had of me?" she asked, her question a riddle in itself.

"Slytherins make poor friends, we are always associates." Snape replied, confident in his assessment. Though Lucius had once been the closest he's had to a friend from within the snake pit, he knew better to believe their association would last long after his usefulness was up. And double goes for him, especially considering how quickly Snape had chosen to snub a relationship this second time around with that family he had once been so close with.

But Urquart's brown eyes flashed. "I can accept that."

But her anger did not dissipate. Snape sat in silence, awaiting context. Another moment passed before she finally gave it. "Do you truly not see me as a man?"

Was that honestly what bothered her? "You're not a man."

Her eyes narrowed, before turning away. Returning her focus to her textbook, but her eyes did not move upon the page. He had offended her somehow, and he could not fathom why. "Do you truly believe yourself a man?" Despite all the pains she had to take to conceal evidence otherwise?

Her eyes darted up, a sharp annoyance whipped across her expression. "You don't understand."

"You're right. I don't." Snape folded his hands upon his lap, a gesture of patience mirroring that of the girl only minutes before when he had been the one with shaken sensibilities. "How could you expect anybody to understand? This is not usual circumstances."

With a scowl she turned away, visibly unsatisfied with Snape's answer. He could not fathom what she expected of him. "Does it honestly matter, Urquart?"

"No. Why should it?" she replied, flippantly. But her tone spoke volumes otherwise.

Snape cast his eyes away, sweeping the muted hum of the common room. Nobody paid them any heed, the last day before exams as it was. His eyes trailed down to his own form, the fine black robes he wore and had made such a grand commotion over. A context that was clear to only himself, for nobody else could understand the depth of the anguish and humiliation a simple gesture should bring. Not Urquart, and certainly not Lily.

And it took another's eyes to point that out to him.

"Anyone who isn't you stands to suffer the same ignorance. You understand, I'm certain," Snape offered slowly, drawing those brown eyes back to him. "I don't understand, but that doesn't mean anything between us, Urquart."

"And the fact that I see myself as a man. And that?" she insisted.

To that Snape could only frown. "Then that is your issue. Not mine." To which she scowled and made to leave, but not before Snape added. "But that does not change things between us."

Her eyes softened, her brows withdrew, a look of thought upon her visage. "Is that the best I can hope for? Distant acknowledgement?"

Snape pressed thin his already thin lips. "If you step beyond what those around you deem to be the accepted norm, then adversity will be your life, Sebastian Urquart," he warned, life lessons earned in the most difficult ways. "But there is nothing admirable about lowering your head and accepting what is."

The girl said nothing, but her brown eyes dropped. The silence that fell between them was that of restless thoughtfulness, but no longer resentful. Once upon a time, it had been Snape, walking that very path. A Slytherin, friends with a Gryffindor, and a muggle-born to boot.

How he wished in the years since to have had someone gift him the wisdom he held now. To have cleared the confusion that had clouded his judgement so fatally. Maybe in the end it would have made no difference, maybe the stupidity of his youth would have triumphed in the end. But left to himself there was no chance against his idiotic spiral of self-destruction.

"We have to be the change we wish to see…" mumbled Urquart, to which Snape bowed his head in contemplative silence.

* * *

A hot cup of tea was already waiting for Snape when he came to visit the old headmaster. Somehow the old man had predicted that he would skip out on that now-annual Gryffindor-hosted end of the year party in favour of one final conversation. No matter how Lily desired his company, he could not bring himself to endure that ruckus again, especially not under the smug eyes of that arrogant Potter.

Nobody else had commented upon his new robes, though the stress of ongoing exams had assisted in their selective blindness. And though Snape could see that underserved pride in that Gryffindor boy's eyes, it seemed for once he did not brag about his deed. The secret shame of the robe origins.

Though Snape loathed the very thought of wearing upon his person charity from the very beast he loathed the most, after sleeping on it he had made peace with ignorance. If that boy kept that galling knowledge to himself, then Snape was content, albeit cautiously, to let it be.

With that conscious decision, Snape had applied his mind to exams, and passed that gauntlet with nary a sweat broken. His school life's end met him on the other side, a far more satisfying note than its original inception.

And with it all, came Snape's final decision on a matter he had sat upon for months. A matter he brought to Dumbledore's table, before a steaming hot cup and saucer of miscellaneous tea. Despite the crushing heat of summer, hot tea was always the preferred drink of the old headmaster, just as hot coffee was Snape's.

"I will not be your Potions Master." The younger man declared without preamble as he sat himself across the desk. Disappointment touched those blue eyes but Dumbledore made no move to interrupt.

Snape, however, wished that he had so he had a reason to act wilfully combative. Because without it, his next decision sounded a little too compromising. "I will, however, be willing to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. That is the only role I will consider."

Those blue eyes darkened. "Severus, you know why I cannot offer you that role."

"Career-ending trouble finds every soul that has ever stepped within that position. I am well aware," Snape replied evenly.

But Dumbledore could only give a small shake of his head. "That trouble sometimes takes the form of life-altering, or life-ending pains as well. That is not a risk I am willing to make."

"But it is a risk I am willing to take," Snape insisted, his eyes flashing. "I once took on this very role, and the end of that was as predictable as it was planned. No other trouble found me for we had already schemed my departure before the year was out, and that, I believe, is all that is needed. In which case I will make myself perfectly clear. If nothing else, it sets a perfectly precise time limit for which I am contracted to this role for. I will take on the role of Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts for one year and one year only and then I will move on from this accursed school."

"And your Slytherins, what of them?" the headmaster insisted. Attempting to stoke his sentiment with those loaded words.

But Snape refused to be guilted into line. "They can have me for one more year. That is more than you should need to make other arrangements."

"And in that time, you will take on the role of Head of Slytherin?" Though that had been phrased as statement, it sounded a question.

"I will," Snape consented, for that was the primary reason he was needed at all. "I will take on the role of Head of House and spare them of Slughorn's clumsy management for the year."

Those blue eyes glanced away, silenced by thought. Calculating, no doubt, the risks weighed against the benefits. Perhaps even planning another cunning plead upon the balance of the compromise. But Snape beat him to his next words. "I had taken the role of Defence once in my past, and you know I had taught that subject more competently than I ever had in my decade and a half serving as your Potion Master." It galled Snape to admit it, for he had vast ability in that area and never begrudged anyone that knowledge. But no student had ever applied themselves to the methods he perfected, and as the years wore on, he felt his own patience wear thin upon that frustration.

However, when he moved to the Defence role, even he could see the difference in what he was able to impart. Whether it was by his own moderately bolstered motivation, or by the student's own drive coming into that subject. "If you wish for me to continue to be the paragon of the Slytherins, then allow them to see me at my best."

Those piercing blue eyes were upon him, clear and piercing, but not that probing sensation upon his mind. They had gone past attempts of subterfuge through Legilimency, strange trust they had garnered between them.

Then slowly the headmaster gave a nod, consent to this compromised proposal. "The contract will be made with the school board post-haste. As will a permanent residence be arranged for your family, if you so wish."

"I do wish," Snape conceded, appreciating the aid despite hating the implications to his inability to provide.

"Then I will contact you as soon as I am able to secure matters." Decision made, a smile finally touched the headmaster's clear blue eyes. "Professor Slughorn will be most disappointed to hear his retirement will have to wait."

* * *

Graduation had always seemed like this mythical faraway point upon one's life's horizon. Though seemingly aware of its approach, exams had dulled that reality. The frantic month of catch up and revision chasing away any time for reflective thought. And after that, celebrations took to the fore, one last hurrah to see out the school year.

And celebrate the Gryffindors had, despite losing the House Cup to the Slytherins again this year. But no one begrudged them that, for it was the points earned from the felling of a great and deadly beast that won them their cup.

Lily stood that day, on the other side of the graduation ceremony, blinking as she stared out upon the shimmering lake, realisation setting in. Her school life had come to an end and life was now stretching out before her like the surface of the yawning lake. The future. Untested, unfettered, and uncertain.

That terror was only just beginning to set in.

"Lily?" A warm voice sounded, as cool fingers slipped around her own. Clad in his handsome gifted robes, he stood by her, as he had during the ceremony, when she had to deliver a speech, as he will in her life to come, for that was what marriage was.

As head boy and girl, they had delivered the graduation speech together, though more her than him. Severus barely said two sentences, hating the spotlight as he did. She didn't begrudge him that comfort. She was simply glad to have him there at all.

All those that graduated that day, friends and acquaintances, all of them had family sitting within the Great Hall, watching them pass this threshold of life with pride. Parents, siblings, adopters, sponsors. Save her and Severus.

They only had each other.

For him more than her, for she had friends and their parents who would come and offer support and comfort. Marlene's mother, in particular, sought her out for a long warm hug, making her promise to visit the McKinnon home in the highlands whenever she was able. It would be an empty household, now that their two oldest were gone. Casualties of this cruel and insidious war that loomed upon the world they were entering.

One that Severus would have her ignore, for her safety, and his peace of mind. He only had her, something this graduation ceremony only drove into her mind keenly. He had stood amongst his Slytherins, exchanging words with those who would approach him, never close, always holding himself apart. It was only her that he would allow to cross that threshold of his heart.

Their life had tangled together from the beginning. Two magical children born in a non-magical world, a chance meeting, and the courage that spurred him to approach her. A moment that changed her life. And though their paths met rocky shores, diverged into darkened depth, they had found each other again. Their hearts and lives entwined faster than she had ever thought possible. Together, now, they walked from this sheltered comfort into the wider world.

With a deep breath, Lily tightened her grip around those cool fingers, only lightly kissed by the cooling charm. He shifted his dark gaze down upon her, his black eyes cool and calm, smiling, not with his lips.

They waited upon the shore as the boats slowly came to shore. One last ceremony.

"Watch your step," Sev cautioned as Lily stepped eagerly to the first boat to dock, entering the great Boathouse and down the damp stone path lining the canal down the centre.

The path they took down to this watery building was cut into the very stones, wound under the castle deep into the bowels, only to climb up and into its Entrance Chambers. It was down this path they had descended to these shores, parting with the families in the Great Hall.

Though this area was not out of bounds, it was so far out of the way that students seldom trespassed. Lily had only been to these docks once before, and that was the day she first stepped foot upon castle grounds as an eleven year old.

The wonder and excitement of the day she could feel as a kiss of a memory as she wore this path of nostalgia. Everything was so much bigger in her memory. The castle, the cliffs, the hills and forest, the castle that loomed out of the darkness, so grand in its silhouetted glory. But as she stepped back down to these very same docks, the bright light of the noon sun streaming through the windows, she could not help but feel the walk far shorter than her memory had promised. The boats too, justice not done to the size they remembered.

She hesitated on that final step into that boat, its side against the wharf, but a short step away. Severus didn't. He stepped straight down, his slender form barely rocking the vessel as he reached one steady hand up to her. A smile touched her lips as she obliged, allowing him to lift her down to the boat gently.

Once upon a time this boat had been enough to fit four young students. Now it filled with only she and Severus settled on either end, sitting face to face in its confined arrangements. How small they must have been.

The boat set off from the dock, unaided by its occupants. Slowly drifting from the shelter of the boathouse as another vessel took its place against the dock, awaiting its next occupants. The noon sun beat down upon the water, only wisps of clouds swirled about the crisp blue sky. The rays bleating off the settled lake upon which not a breath of wind had stirred, through which their boat cut slowly through.

Behind them a small fleet had formed, students retracing the steps that took them to this institution. The sounds of laughter rang in the air, whoops of jubilance from graduates, still high from their freedom, mercifully free of the realisation of the responsibilities of the life to come.

Lily could not help the laughter that escaped her lips, a ringing bubble of excitement and mirth that fought free of the strangling anticipation of what could be. Severus' dark eyes never left her, watching her as she laughed and waved to her friends upon those other boats. Eyes only for her, even as they lost sight of that grand castle behind the hills and the thickened trees.

As they left behind them their student lives and faced the oncoming world upon their own will and capacity.

* * *

A/N: School is finally over. Good news, Snape. You're no longer married to a student.

A/N: Sorry for the late post guys. Posting time was between very long shifts and I simply slept/worked through it.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 9th February 2018 AEDT.

 **Chapter 53: To Begin Life Anew**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	53. To Begin Life Anew

**Chapter 53: To Begin Life Anew**

Diagon Alley was a kaleidoscope of noise and colour, filled with crowds that could not be kept away even with the lateness of the day and the bleating summer heat. Ordinarily, Lily would have enjoyed this opportunity to immerse herself with the crowds and browse the curiosities on offer. But after a long day, having only graduated that morning, and then spending a good portion of her afternoon dealing with matters of her account in Gringotts, she was ready to retire for the evening.

Her withdrawal from their newly united account clinked in her coin bag, far lighter than it ordinarily would be from a visit. It wasn't that she didn't have funds to draw from; indeed the sale of her house had brought enough coins to live off. At least for a while.

Lily sighed as her brows knit together, worries now pressed directly upon the fore of her mind. Sev's had a career lined up already, but she hadn't even decided on what she wanted to do yet. Either way, the search will have to wait until the morning. Even had she the mind and drive to start tonight, most local shops and businesses were winding down for the evening.

With tired steps she trudged through the opening in the brickwork that lead back to the Leaky Cauldron. The bricks clicked back into place, forming a non-descript brick wall with an indent in the middle. Concealing the bustling magical marketplace from the bar that acted a bridge between the muggle and magical world.

She gave a smile and wave to the landlord Tom who smiled back with his enthusiastic toothless grin. He never mentioned how he lost his teeth, but he had never made any effort to introduce dentures for his missing teeth as long as Lily could remember.

Procuring the key to the room she rented for the night, she pushed open the door with a greeting on the tip of her tongue, feeling the tingle of a protective ward wash over her. She knew Severus was back, she could sense his form through her ring before she had even fully crossed the illusionary brickwork.

He had made himself at home it seemed, his tattered bag already partially unpacked upon a seat in the corner, his potion kit already given an assigned table by the cracked window. And by that very window he sat, clad in those impeccable dress robes, his arms folded as he watched her from an unevenly padded armchair.

"Why so formal?" Lily asked as she closed the door and kicked off her shoes. The floor wasn't the cleanest, even with a liberal application of the Scourgify charm, but she had been on her feet all day and her toes demanded freedom.

His arms unfolded then, seeming to relax where he sat. "I have no other respectable robes to wear in daily life. So unless you wish for me to strut about the place in bathrobes, this will have to be my day wear."

"Probably not the best option in public," Lily agreed, unable to keep the image from her mind or the associated smile off her face, "however in the privacy of our room I don't see any problems with letting your hair down."

She was ready to do just that herself, stripping off her socks and stuffing them into her shoes. She hadn't yet purchased a set of casual-wear robes for her everyday use, and didn't feel it an appropriate expense to blow their precious budget on, at least not hers. Severus was another matter as he didn't have a single item of appropriate everyday wear to call his own, muggle or magical.

"What about your recently acquired school robes? Surely you can give that a few extra days of wear?" she asked as she worked down the buttons to her blouse. "Transfigure away the school crest and it'd look like any other set of robes."

When he didn't answer she glanced to him, to find his eyes fixed upon her hands. Too distracted to speak, or even listen, it seemed. Her eyebrow arched as her fingers threaded her last button back up. His eyes instantly snapped to her eyes, charmingly sheepish for being caught out.

"I asked, what about your new school robes?" Lily rehashed with a roll of her eyes and a poorly masked smile.

"I sold it," came the blunt reply.

Lily rounded on him, shirt buttons forgotten. "Why did you do that? It wasn't that long off the tailor's hooks."

Those thin lips twisted, as if annoyed by such a thought. "Which is precisely why I sold it to a second hand robe shop. School robes of that quality in such good condition fetched a reasonable price."

That was a fair enough reason. Lily hadn't thought of that. "First day out in the world and already you're bringing bacon home," she chirped with a clap of her hands. Her muggle idiom sounding more correct in her mind than when she said it aloud.

"Not quite," he muttered, sheepish once more. "I already spent it… on necessities."

Well that tone prodded at her curiosity. "Such as…?" she asked with a teasing lilt in her voice.

"New underwear for one," he muttered as if trying to blend his words with his breathing.

"Well, I agree that is a necessity." Lily nodded solemnly as Sev coloured and looked away, so bashful about such nonconsequential things. And as such, Lily could not resist poking fun of him. "Well go on then, show me."

His black eyes flickered back to hers. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Her eyes flashed with mischief. "Take off your stuffy dress robes and show me."

He stood from his seat and drew the curtains together with a flick of his wand. A grin stretched across Lily's lips, she hadn't actually expected him to comply with her cheeky demands.

But then he stepped right up to her, and touched his fingers upon that button of her blouse. The colour came to her cheeks. "I thought I said your robes," she complained, finding his nimble fingers making short work of her shirt.

"Then by all means, you can help me out of it," he muttered, leaning in, his chilled breath against her neck. He worked her shoulders out of the top of her blouse, trailing small kisses along her collarbone with his icy lips.

A shiver ran through her, excited and mildly confused by this sudden but not unwelcome turnabout. After months of avoiding this whole affair, decrying their age and school rules, she hadn't expected him to be so overwhelmingly on board the moment they stepped foot out of school grounds.

"Wait." she complained, placing her hands upon his chest. He paused upon the last button, his black eyes flickered back up to hers, suddenly painfully uncertain. "I can't risk pregnancy," she insisted, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth.

His black eyes softened as he straightened, but not withdrawing completely from her sphere. "I agree," he concurred, then looked even more sheepish, if that were even possible. "Which is why I took the liberties of procuring more ingredients…"

"You spent money on that?" Lily asked, her voice filled with the tone of amused aghast.

"It's a necessary expense." His eyes flashed with indignation, though the colour of his cheeks spoke volumes otherwise. "We both agree we cannot afford to risk accidental pregnancy."

"Oh, I did not dispute that. It was everything else that wasn't part of the 'strictly necessary' column." She couldn't help the grin that split upon her face, nor that one extra jab at his expense. "What's wrong? Couldn't keep to the celibate lifestyle any longer?"

Those black eyes bore into hers with such deadly intensity. "Not with such a corruptive force for a wife."

She gasped in mock affront, but could barely keep the smile from her face. Her hands wound their way about his neck, her fingers trickling through his lightly tangled hair. He leaned in to her touch, approaching with a little more exploratory hesitation.

She didn't wait for him, finding his lips with her own, feeling the sharp coolness of his breath battle against the warmth of her own. With a flick of her fingers, she undid that one last button, casting her shirt from her shoulders and causing him to withdraw from their kiss to slide his black eyes over her form.

She smiled as she kicked off her skirt, but batted away his hands when they came to seek more. "Oh no," she teased, stepping out of his reach and perching herself upon the end of the bed, crossing her legs in a way that drew his attention to all the right places. "I asked you to take off your robes, didn't I?"

* * *

Morning came and for once Snape welcomed the awareness that came with the world of the waking. Lily lay at his side, unmoved from where she fell asleep against him the previous night. The inn bed was not particularly large but it had more than enough space to spread out for two as thin as they were. But all the same, she had chosen to lie up against him, her arm thrown across his torso, her warmth a radiant spot against his magically cool skin.

Snape cracked his eyes open against the pale grey light of morning. It had been a hot night, and the thin sheets they had draped across them when they finally settled for the night now pulled unevenly about their forms and tangling about her legs. She was a sheet kicker it seemed, and oddly it didn't disturb his ordinarily light sleep.

But he did not dislike how the sheets played across her body, laying lightly over her still form where they covered. The night was hot, too hot for existence under sheets it seemed. He did not know how long he spent admiring her legs from where he lay.

But it wasn't long before his enjoyment could give way to the dawning sense of responsibility. Snape sighed, shifting where he laid, laying a rousing hand upon her shoulder.

"Mmm…" she murmured, as she tightened her grasp upon his torso, refusing to open her eyes.

But as much as he wanted to leave her in peace, neither of them could afford to let this matter slide. "Awake, Lily. You need to take your dose."

With mighty reluctance, Lily finally edged her bleary eyes open, releasing her grasp upon her husband. Snape slipped from her arms and straight into his summoned bathrobes, disliking the feeling of exposure.

He stalked over to the table, sweeping open the curtains a crack to allow him the light to search. With a quick snap of his vial case, Snape procured the potion.

Lily had sat up within the bed, allowing the blankets to fall from her body and drawing Snape's eyes instinctively to her form. With a flick of his wand he swept the cracked curtains shut behind him, jealously guarding her from potential outside eyes.

She hadn't bothered to cover up after escapades, falling asleep quickly. Snape, however, couldn't feel comfortable until he redressed in at least his underwear, now a black pair of better fitting shorts. A difference in mentality between them, he supposed. She didn't have the same chip on her shoulder as he did.

With a thankful, and oddly coy smile, Lily accepted the potion, gulping it quickly. Snape had brewed it the previous afternoon, having returned to their room far sooner than Lily had. He had to do something to keep himself occupied, lest he wore a hole upon the floor pacing from worry over their brief separation. Snape did not like the idea of his wife wondering the streets of magical London alone, not with what was happening with the world, and worse that was yet to come.

Indeed, the only reason he had the currency to purchase these ingredients had been down to the hefty fee he received from the sale of those school robes of exceptional quality and condition. After the initial anger that came with the realisation that James Potter had arrogantly took it upon himself to rectify assumed fault in Snape's wardrobe, Snape had calmed just as quickly.

His terrible temper had been what brought him the most grief in his past, his greatest weakness as a youth and a terrible flaw he had been forced to control as an adult. For he would make a poor spy flying off his emotions.

Besides, there was something savagely satisfying in knowing he had used that very gift as a means to enjoy congress with the very woman that Potter had once coveted. It made the whole affair just that touch more nefariously pleasurable.

But such thoughts seemed far from Lily's mind, as she handed back that empty vial and snuggled back under covers, kicking her feet free of the tangle of sheets. She smiled, patting that empty space beside her, enticing him.

There was little else he could do this day except wait for word from Dumbledore, so this was as efficient use of his time as anything. But almost as soon as if responding to his enjoyment, a sharp rap came at the window. Snape sighed, as the curious girl sat back up in bed.

"Mail is here, Lily. You might wish to cover up," he muttered as he refastened his bathrobes, turning to the curtains with the utmost of reluctance.

Lily rolled her eyes. "It's just an owl, Sev."

But she quickly changed her mind when the creature was allowed in and had its bright yellow judgemental eye turned upon her, almost as if it couldn't quite believe the indecency of it all. Snape snatched the letter from the bird's talons, spotting the Hogwarts crest upon the seal, and quickly shooed the creature back out the window.

"What's it about?" Lily asked, slipping out again from the covers she had pulled about her ears. Snape turned his back to her, partly to catch the smoggy morning light that filtered from the crack in the curtains he was willing to allow, and partly to keep himself from being distracted by the sight of her.

"The letter is for me," Snape answered, suppressing a sigh and folding the parchment closed before Lily could close the gap. _Speak of the devil…_ She did not need to know he was in private communications with Dumbledore, at least until things have been made official. "It seems I cannot enjoy your company any longer this morning. A matter in regards to my soon to be employment calls."

"And already the world begins to wrest your time from me. It's what I get for marrying a genius. I'll have to share," Lily muttered solemnly, stepping from the bed to gather her clothing. She was in no hurry to cover up it seemed, and Snape similarly felt in no hurry to leave.

It was only as she slipped on her basics, and clasp back about her throat that cursed gold necklace did Snape get a hold of his bewitched senses. That gift from Potter, an eternal reminder of what could have been. Lily would never know the depth of its gall, but it was not her place to curb her living for his shame. At the very least, she never denied his request for her to remove that trinket for times when he'd rather not be reminded.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," he muttered, shaking off his own misgivings. He stepped forward to offer a kiss, something he understood from classic tales that was customary between lovers, and something he found the sentimentality to engage in.

But she quickly held her hand out, passing a hand over her lips and muttering a spell of freshening. "Okay, I'm ready," she announced, having scoured away her morning breath.

Snape hesitated a fraction, realising he hadn't observed his morning hygiene yet. With a wave of his wand, he cleaned his teeth and freshened his breath, and only then approached again for his intended kiss.

"Aww, you do care," Lily murmured, accepting the affection eagerly.

Snape's kiss lingered, savouring the moment, satisfied in the direction his life had taken. To have someone to share his life with, to leave home with the taste of her lips on his, to come home knowing there was someone waiting. Poets had boasted of such in text and song, but none had ever done this feeling true justice it seemed.

* * *

As Snape stepped into the Headmaster's office, Dumbledore greeted from the direction of his phoenix' perch. "Forgive the mess, Severus. I hadn't expected your arrival so soon." Indeed, feathers scattered about the floor and tables. "Fawkes is moulting, and despite his best efforts in grooming he needs a little help. The pin feathers make him ever so uncomfortable and even a phoenix needs relief from summer humidity."

Snape raised one black eyebrow to the headmaster, patting a feather from his shoulder. "Are you incapable of grooming your pet outside?"

"Alas, Fawkes does not enjoy the perch upon the balcony as he does the office. And at his age, it is all about his comfort." Dumbledore turned to the bird with a small soft-bristled brush, bringing it down the bird's scarlet feathers. "He is coming towards the tail end of his cycle. There is perhaps another decade in him, two at most."

"And yet he'll outlive us all," Snape muttered as he took his seat, annoyed by the need to wait when he had rushed out of bed to meet the headmaster. Had he known the summons were not urgent, he might have enjoyed his morning for another hour or so. "I trust you called me with matters to attend, and not for a simple chat over animal grooming practices."

"Of course," Dumbledore responded, though he did not take his seat, instead conjuring a pair of tweezers. "The announcement of your hiring has been made official. The date of your meeting with the Board of Governors has been set. Tomorrow morning," the old man offered, floating over a scroll of parchment bearing the wax seal of the school board, before turning back to plucking at some oddly bent feathers sticking out of the peaks of the bird's wings.

A sneer touched Snape's lips as he accepted the invite, tucking it into his robes and imagining the commotion that must have caused. "I can't imagine they were very pleased to learn you have decided to hire a freshly graduated eighteen-year-old."

"I believe one of the noble governors had called it an unusually eccentric decision, even by my barmy standards," the headmaster quipped with a light tone, giving one last long brush of his bird's tail.

Fawkes gave a shrill cry, ruffling his newly groomed feathers, eliciting a beaming smile from the old man. There were few moments Snape would ever consider truly genuine from Albus Dumbledore, but he would never deny that the man genuinely loved his pet.

"I trust you know how to present yourself on the day." Dumbledore fixed him with his blue stare, somewhat lessened with effect due to the headmaster being covered head to foot with loose feathers.

"I don't foresee a problem," Snape dismissed, "They had approved my appointment despite knowing I was a former Death Eater. I cannot see how my age could be even more detrimental than that."

Dumbledore brushed away the feathers with an unwanded cast of magic and set himself down in his throne-like seat across from Snape. "When you put it that way, I wonder if there is anything I cannot get away with."

"Don't let it go to your head," Snape growled.

With a twinkle in his eye and a faraway smile, not half as warm as he was with his bird, Dumbledore dipped his head in acknowledgement. "I concede to your wisdom." before that smile muted and a serious tone took their conversation once more. "And wise you are, beyond the age of which you seem."

"In that I'm not without unfair advantage," Snape muttered.

"You are a calmer man, too I've noted," Dumbledore continued, folding his hands upon the table before him. "And far more compassionate a man than I had ever took you for, even when I first met you in this incarnation." Dumbledore smiled, gesturing the cracked ring he wore upon a finger unblemished with blackened rot.

Snape glared at the man, still disbelieving he would take such a risk after everything he was warned about. "That ring brought naught but decay and death to you in another life."

"And in this one brought me peace. It's funny how fate works." The headmaster smiled, one so different to any Snape had ever seen upon the man. Contentment, perhaps. And for once Snape understood what that might feel like.

Those blue eyes turned away before Snape could inquire further, not that he was interested in the old man's affairs. The headmaster turned to other business, almost as if to steer conversation away.

"One last order of affairs, Severus." A key appeared unbeckoned, floating over from a box upon the shelf and into Dumbledore's open palm. "In light of your living arrangement, I believe there is only one household appropriate for your habitation. The only one I would trust to provide the privacy and security you need, especially in light of your newly unwelcome fame."

A light scowl touched Snape's lips at that thought, he had been unable to keep atop of the news owing to inconsistent access, but he didn't doubt articles of him persisted in their appearances, perhaps slanting towards the unfavourable spectrum. An inevitable fate with all fame. No matter how noble your actions, or clear your intent, controversy entices the public mind and slander sells papers.

"Your name has no doubt reached the ears of those of less harmless interest too…" Dumbledore continued, a sentiment Snape needed no reminder of. Until now his anonymity had protected him from the dark lord's wrath, but now he had not even that. Worse, his fame stemmed straight from an action that opposed that vile warlock directly.

Meeting his dark eyes, Dumbledore placed the key upon the table between them and slid them solemnly over to Snape. "Though the household is still under my name, I have made you custodian of the property. The privacy wards that are laid into its stone are quite powerful, my mother had ensured that. They will turn away strangers at the door unless invited over the threshold by you or your wife. No unfriendly eye would pierce the veil over the windows, and no sound would reach unfriendly ear beyond your walls. This is the best protection I can offer short of the imprisoning touch of the Fidelius."

Snape lowered his eyes as he accepted the keys, feeling the weight of the memories attached to them. The memories of the slain sister had driven both sons from this very household, leaving the building to stand bare through the decades that proceeded.

"I am… grateful, Professor Dumbledore," Snape muttered, closing his fingers about the cool brass key, forged in the design of another century.

A twinkle touched Dumbledore's piercing blue eyes, perhaps realising now how rare genuine gratitude was from the young man before him. Indeed they were no longer strangers, and though he had not known Snape as long as another Dumbledore had, in many ways their distance was far shorter than it had ever been.

"One last thing, Severus. Before you leave." A smile upon Dumbledore's face in true. "You're no longer my student and we are to be co-workers once more. Just Albus is fine."

* * *

"So why don't you tell me a little about yourself Ms…?"

"Snape. I mean, Mrs Snape. Lily Snape." Lily winced at the awkwardness but forged ahead. She was fortunate enough to somehow stumble upon a job opportunity right off the bat and she'd be darned if she didn't give it her all.

But so far everything seemed to be hitting all the wrong notes as the proprietor of the shop, a plump and rounded middle-aged witch named Selena Swelley, smiled back in mild confusion. "Oh, married already? Did you not say you had only just graduated?"

"Yes. Yesterday in fact." Lily could not help her sheepish smile. She hadn't given it much thought at the time, but she could see now how odd a youthful marriage might seem. "In my defence, I had known my husband basically all my life. In a way we really didn't rush into this." If she squints hard enough, what she said almost looked like it lay on the truthful side of exaggeration.

To her relief, the confusion cleared the kindly witch's smile. "So Snape must be your husband's name right? Tell me, is he by any chance related to this Snape in the papers?"

"Severus Snape, Protector of Slytherin? He's one and the same." Lily could not help that glow of pride, especially at that sudden sparkle of excitement in the patron's eyes.

The questions poured forth. "Are you really married to him? He seemed ever so sour in the photos. One would think if he were married to such a lovely young lady he'd seem a little bit happier."

Lily knew exactly what she meant. "He hates the limelight, and I mean hates it with the fury of a thousand curse flares. If you point a camera at him he's going to scowl."

"Oh so every photo taken of him would naturally not catch his good side." Madam Swelley nodded as if in understanding. "No wonder he looked so bedraggled and haggard in every photo."

Lily grimaced. "Yeah… yep. That's why." His greatest qualities didn't lie in his physical appearance, but she didn't need to voice that fact.

"Well it is certainly delightful to meet the woman behind such an extraordinary young man," Swelley chirped, before her tone returned to a touch more seriousness. "But we should return to matters at hand, namely what you can bring to my little Trinket shop."

And here was where her natural abilities gave her the edge. "My best subject is in Charms. And though my results haven't been released yet, I'm relatively confident I stand within the Outstanding bracket." Quite literally the only subject in which she hadn't bumbled one portion or another. She had actually forgotten everything in a portion of her Defence Against the Dark Arts paper to do with the temporal properties generated when two offensive spells meet, and her Transfigurations practical was marred by one incident of accidentally conjuring a grandfather clock with wings and a personality.

"That is very impressive, and Charms is essential to this line of work." Swelley beamed.

"Swelley's Trinkets and Charmswork. That's why I applied." Lily nodded eagerly. "And I understand this shop does a little bit of enchantment on top of classic charmed trinkets. Though Hogwarts doesn't offer that subject I've tried it in my free time, only once. Good results though."

That got a little rise of interest. "Really? You've enchanted something?"

Lily held out her left hand, splaying her fingers. "I had a hand in our wedding rings, enchanted it myself. My husband has the matching pair."

Swelley leaned forward, her plump form teetering on the edge of her chair. "Truly? May I see it for myself?"

Lily slipped the ring off and handed it over without a moment's hesitation, and watched with bated breath as the witch turned it over and tapped it with her wand, investigating the properties of her novice attempt at the craft. She had been exuberant that it had worked at all, having never had a hand in the craft at all, but she doubted her slight foray into the field would lay an impression upon a veteran in the craft.

But her worries were for naught it seemed as the experienced enchanter handed back the ring, her eyes gleaming with interest. "I confess I have never seen one as young as you able to create an enchantment as strong as you had. You have natural ability in the craft it seems, in some form or fashion."

Lily latched on to that compliment eagerly. "It's because I'm a natural wandless caster." And to demonstrate that she summoned the ring back to her finger with a gesture. She didn't even need to speak to cast the Summoning Charm anymore.

Madam Swelley stared with genuine surprise, a smile creeping over her wondrous face. "A natural caster, with experience in enchantment. Why you were made for my store." She slipped off her cushioned chair to take Lily's hand in a firm two-handed shake. "Welcome, Lily Snape. You can start next Monday, let's say… ten. Gives you a little bit of a sleep in and gives me time to get my lazy bear of a husband in to mind the front while I walk you through the back."

"Thank you so much for the opportunity!" Lily exclaimed excitedly, truly thankful for the offer.

But before Lily could take her dignified leave, a silver doe burst through the shopfront window and landed urgently before her. "Lily!" came Sev's voice, it was hard to ignore the panic in his tone, no matter how he tried to hide it. "Where are you? Please answer and return as soon as you can."

Lily winced. "Sorry… my husband's a worrywart." and without another word sent a doe back. That should keep him from Apparating straight into the shop in search of her.

At the very least it didn't seem to hurt her image with her new employer. Madam Swelley watched her wordless display of the Patronus with an admiring gleam, as if she couldn't believe the talent she had managed to hire on. But of course, it was an impressive feat. There weren't many who could cast that advanced Charm in of itself, let alone master it wordlessly, and even with Lily's talents it had taken a good hour or so of dedicated focus.

With that, Lily took her leave with a skip in her step, a blanket of worry melted away. They would have income for the foreseeable future, and some security to their humble lives. But that light hearted excitement was short lived as she pushed open the door to her room. Severus was already back, as she expected him to be, but he was pacing back and forth like an agitated Knarl in too small of a cage.

Lily sighed, prompting him to turn to her in visible relief, somehow missing the telling tug his ring must have alerted him with. "I can see transitioning into the real world is going to be a chore for you if you fall to pieces whenever I'm out of sight for a few hours."

Sev wasn't even the least bit abashed by his obvious agitation. "It would help if you left a note about when you left, and why, and what time you were expected to return," he growled.

Lily arched a crimson eyebrow. "And would you like a diagram with that? Perhaps a minute by minute report over where I am and what I'm doing.

"That was not an unreasonable request," Sev muttered, scowling at the reductio ad absurdum.

"At the very least you should have expected that I would not be spending all day cooped in this room," Lily said as she kicked off her shoes, working out her annoyance with her husband to the bubbling excitement of the news she was bringing home. She was employed, and wanted to share it under the most comfortable of circumstances.

But Sev had other ideas it seemed. He strode to her side, laying a soft hand upon her shoulder. "You might wish to leave those on."

Lily glanced up at him, curious as she slipped her shoes back on. Severus reached out, offering his palm, and Lily took it and stood at his light beckoning. Then suddenly the wooden walls was whisked away, as a cool breeze played about her skirt tails. She cast her eyes about the unfamiliar sun-touched scenery, disoriented by the smoothness of Sev's apparition for she legitimately hadn't realised she had left their inn room at all.

She turned her eyes down the rows of charming little houses, with their knee-height walls built right up to the roads, their little gardens in the front blooming with unseasonal flowers, one even had a frivolous lawn ornament that spouted rainbow bubbles that turned into wispy butterflies. A Kneazle sat upon the low brickwork of a wall, narrowing its suspicious orange eyes and made Lily feel all the more like the intruder into a magical land.

But Severus was not the least deterred, shooing the cat-like magical creature from its perch to open that very gate. Lily followed, hesitant but burning with curiosity, wondering what on magical earth they were doing here. But the surprise could only compound when Sev stepped up to the door, and without pausing to knock, slipped a brass key from his pocket and turned it in the lock.

Realisation began to dawn, coupled with disbelief, as he held his hand out to her, prompting her to take it as he crossed that threshold. She followed him in through the door, feeling the coolness of the shaded interior sweep the touch of summer off her shoulders. Her eyes took a moment to adjust after Sev closed the door behind them, the sharp difference in light gradient casting the interior into deep shadows and beige.

Dropping her hand, Severus strode forward, however, confident in the layout. Lily followed behind, taking in what she her eyes would slowly allow. The wallpaper jumped out at her, floral and faded, cracked in some areas but dry and crisp to the touch, as if newly and thoroughly cleaned.

The wooded floor creaked under her shoes, polished bright and partly hidden by a length of carpet, running from the entrance door to the base of a stairwell, the hall breaking off to encircle around that structure.

Two archways opened on either side of that walk, light spilling forth from both. She glanced into one of them, observing the great table that stood in its centre, carved from splendid wood of a light, almost golden quality. A heavy intricate design that seemed to hail from another decade, another century even, but gleamed in defiance against the passage of time. Over the open door to the kitchen hung a painting of a grand old hippogriff curled under an apple tree, flicking its tail lazily without a hint of interest at the sudden appearance of two strangers in its midst.

The windows that streamed the heady sunlight was set opposite that eye-catching portrait, into the side of the wall that faced out into the streets she had entered from. She had momentarily paused to wonder how she had missed it from the street, but quickly brushed the thought aside to make way for her insatiable curiosity and excitement.

She darted back across the hall to the second archway and stuck her head through, whipping it about to take in everything she could. A sprawling lounge greeted her eyes, two great armchairs that sat comfortably across each other before an unlit fireplace, their white upholstering threadbare and patched, but obviously recently tended to. Between them a sofa lounged, its fore to the barren fire pit, at its claw feet sprawled a throw rug that looked as if it only recently got all the moths beaten out of it. On top of that, a tea table of the same creamy lacquered wood, light gleaming off its polished surface from the clear grand windows that streamed in the summer sun.

Turning back into the hall, Lily headed down the hall and paused at the split, momentarily struck with indecision as to which direction to take her exploration. Finally the staircase won out and she darted up them, taking them three steps at a time until she emerged to a wide and spacious hallway, lined with an ostentatious number of doors.

She pushed open the first door, finding gleaming white tiles shining back to her. A bathroom of surprisingly modern plumbing in direct contrast to the décor of the rest of the house, but she did note the lack of showering facilities, having only a bathtub within its spacious interior.

Backing out she darted straight for the doors at the end, pushing it open without a moment's hesitation or heed. To reveal a grand old bedroom, its sprawling bed with frame of bright solid wood, its sheets white and crisp, so obviously newly obtained in a house of such antique qualities. The style stood at great odds with the wardrobe of grand and ancient design by the wall at the foot of the bed sitting beside the hallway entrance and off at angles to another door leading to a gleaming ensuite bathroom.

Giddy with the possibilities, Lily could not help the mounting excitement and curiosity. Such a fantastic magical house, so regal in its size and grandeur. And so ridiculous to imagine that this was what Sev had in mind as a home.

Stepping up to a folded double door, she pushed through to a balcony that seemed to be built deep into the back of the house, sheltering deep in brickwork of the house. It overlooked the yard, and beyond the fence, unable to be seen by any who peeked from neighbouring houses, and perhaps from their yards as well. Yet the view drew long, past the yard, and the fence, down the hills and meadows, grand land and pastures dotted with stones and trees and nestled a small stream that shimmered lazily in the noon sun. Beyond it all, a heavy touch of shadows painted the boughs of the tree lines, forests that loomed upon the horizon, their leaves kissing the faultless blue skies.

A magical house within a wizarding village, nestled in the heart of pristine countryside…

"I may be jumping to conclusions… but… are we… living here?" Lily breathed as she sat down upon the bed and turned her eyes to her husband who had followed her silently on her tour. He only nodded once in affirmation, a small smile edging across his lips.

"How could we possibly afford this?" Lily gasped, struck with exuberating and heart clenching concern. They had money problems, they started with money problems. This is not the kind of house people with money problems lived in.

Sev made no hurried move to answer, instead stepping out upon the balcony beside her, leaning lightly, but still straight backed upon the railing. "I have… accepted a job offer. One that comes with various perks."

"Yeah but a house? What kind of job offers a house as a perk?" Lily's mind was reeling, trying to imagine what sort of work Sev got himself involved in. She knew he wouldn't be aiming low, but this is really too far of a leap straight out from graduation.

Sev cast his sights long into the distance, silent for a moment, before confessing a surprising fact. "This house belongs to Albus Dumbledore."

Lily's eyebrows darted for her hairline, her lips ajar in visible surprise. It was a moment before she could unlatch her jaw enough to speak, and even then it was to voice breathy disbelief. "Professor Dumbledore?"

"Do you know of any other Albus Dumbledores?" Sev muttered, his snark lancing through Lily's numb disbelief.

With a roll of her eyes she gave her husband a light shove. "You're lucky I like you." His lips twitched upwards at her touch. "So Professor Dumbledore hired you? Are you working at Hogwarts?" Excitement mounted as her imagination went wild, trying to fathom what type of job was available at that school for the newly graduated.

But she would have never imagined the truth of it all.

"I am to be a Professor next year, and Head of Slytherin."

Lily could not help that surprised squeal of delight, enveloping her husband in a tight bone-cracking hug. "Oh my goodness? Really? A professor already? Its everything you wanted!"

"No." Sev muttered against her shoulder. "I never wanted this. You misinterpreted my protestations."

But Lily ignored his denials, her mind still reeling from the revelation. "Professor Snape. Head and Protector of Slytherin." Lily gasped in delight against her husband, still refusing to release him. "You were amazing, I knew it! Youngest Professor in what? Centuries?"

"In all of history," Sev muttered as Lily withdrew to regard him with wide-eyed surprise. "I will be the first Professor to be appointed directly out of graduation in all of British history."

Her lips parted in incredulity, unable to fathom the magnitude of this historical event. "Really?" was all she managed, her eyes as wide as crystal balls.

"Providing I am approved by the Board of Governors tomorrow," Sev finished, his voice light and confident. "But I do not believe that to be a legitimate obstacle."

"No, they only just need to approve _**every**_ change in operations at the school!" Lily exclaimed, feeling a lot more anxious over the impending decision than Sev seemed in the least.

"And have made far more questionable concessions to Dumbledore's whims in the past. I have no doubts," he quipped with cool confidence but scowled despite his words.

But Lily wasn't the least bit spoiled by his mood, bubbling again with anxious excitement. "You're such a genius! You'll be the greatest potion master in history!" she clamped down hard again with her bone crushing hug, she actually heard the whoosh of air leaving his lungs.

"Not so, Lily." Sev's strained voice sounded, his thin fingers prying her arms from about him. "Have you forgotten? Slughorn is Potion Master still."

That's right, she didn't know why that had slipped her mind. Somehow that was simply the most logical conclusion to make. But then the realisation dawned on her, of the only open position on the subject's roster. "No." she breathed, concern clutching at her throat. "Defence Against the Dark Arts?"

A solemn nod was his reply.

"No!" Lily exclaimed, leaping from the bed in alarm, glaring with disbelief at her husband's shocking act of recklessness. "You know that position is cursed! Why would you risk it?"

"Jinxed, actually," was Sev's cool reply, unbelievably calm over the thought of the calamity to fall.

A parade of professors passed through that very position, each meeting unfortunate fates that ended their careers. Some afflicted with mild need of sea change, as with Professor Motley last year who suddenly disappeared the month before exams and was found on the other side of the world in Vancouver. Apparently his midlife crisis finally caught up with him in his twilight years and decided a cabin in the grand mountainous forests of Canada was the place to be.

But then there were the less fortunate. The ill, and crippled and killed. Those whose lives were broken, families lost and relationships shattered. Of the professors she had, those incidents had been rare, but having had one Professor who died of Dragon Pox and another who retired from heartbreak when his son died of an accidental spell backfire in the sanctity of his own home, Lily feared all too keenly the power of this jinx.

But before any of these concerns made it past her lips, Severus stood from the railing, his hands finding her and pulling her into a comforting embrace. "Your concern for me is noted, and appreciated, but take faith that I have made arrangements to subvert the dangers. This will be a one year contract, the first of its kind, one that I will honour with every intention of leaving the realm of teaching once my term has passed."

"And that will work?" Lily urged with a mumble against his chest, unable to withhold her anxious worry.

"I have reasonable belief that it might be all that's needed." As close to a promise as he could get without committing to it. For how could he know the future? It was as much a guess as anything.

Lily sighed, her breath hot upon his cool dress robes then quickly dissipated by his worn charm. "I don't want to see you hurt, Sev…"

"Neither do I," came the almost flippant reply, sending a smile to Lily's lips.

With a sigh she finally relented, her excitement overwhelming the last of the reservations she had. "I can't help but also think that it sounds like a terrible career move, starting and ending your professorship with one year."

"Believe me, one year is enough."

With one last squeeze, Lily released him, turning back to the windswept view, her mind aflutter with everything that happened. Sev sat by her, watching her silently, his smile light but so radiant to her.

"But we're not out of the financial woods yet," he muttered, his smile giving way to a sigh. He was always so eager to spoil good news with follow up. "Even if the governors agree to appoint me, my pay period does not start until a month before school's start. We will still be without income until then."

And that's where Lily came in with, "Actually, we're not. I found work," and flashed her brilliant grin as Sev turned an arched brow upon her.

"You're not the only one who's been constructive. From next Monday onwards, I shall be an enchanter at 'Madam Swelley's Trinkets and Charms' in Diagon Alley!" Lily could hardly contain her excitement, bounding up and down on the spot like a child fed too much sugar.

Sev said not a word, his brows drawing together so subtly that for a moment Lily thought he might find fault in her achievement. But then he relented a smile, so brilliant and touched with pride that it made Lily's heart leap with love and joy.

Without a word he stepped forward and brought his arms about her, holding onto her far more tightly than she had ever felt from him. Happiness perhaps, excitement for their impending future. Relief for the stability to visit their lives. And perhaps one last element she could not quite fathom, one that made his heart thud so deep and fast, that made her heart beat in echoing response to his biting fear.

* * *

A/N: A house that no Dumbledore would live in, seems a waste. Luckily Slytherins are resourceful.

A/N: Thanks to Benjutsu for the reminder that it's no longer 2018. I have edited this chapter's update reminder accordingly.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and MrsNanna for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 23rd February 2019 AEDT.

 **Chapter 54: Of Promises Kept and Broken**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	54. Of Promises Kept and Broken

**Chapter 54: Of Promises Kept and Broken**

"The Hogwarts Board of Governors calls this hearing today to hear the presentation of one Severus Snape on his eligibility to fill the vacated post of Defence Against the Dark Arts within Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Snape stood from his seat before a gathered council. There were more present than the dozen whose opinions made the verdict, but it seemed every eligible stakeholder had turned up to this hearing. The decision however, would be made by the twelve witches and wizards seated along the long table before Snape. These twelve comprised the chair of this council and the governing body of the board.

Snape felt those eyes bore into him. He could hear the mutterings of the crowds, hidden by the gradient darkness, for the main chamber lights fell only upon him and those that manned the twelve seats.

"Never has one as young as you, in Britain or abroad, been nominated for the position of Professor," crooned a man with a trailing silver mane, sitting towards the centre. He was the chairman, Abraxas Malfoy, the father of Lucius who would eventually replace him. The elder Malfoy had ensured Snape's appointment in his previous life owing to his son's favour.

Snape did not have the advantage of this association to rely on this time around.

With a deferential motion, Snape dipped his head in acknowledgement. "That is true, my appointment will be setting a precedent never before made in Hogwarts history. Twenty three had been the minimum age set by the board centuries ago. And before the appointment of twenty-one year old Minerva McGonagall, that benchmark had held."

A muttering arose from the unseen crowds as the elder Malfoy glared across the table with barely muted contempt. "That may be, Mr Snape, but she had held an administrator's role within the Ministry courts and brought with her years of experience and a formidable reputation. You, on the other hand, are a barely graduated youngster without a single drop of experience to boast of."

"And a formidable reputation before I had even stepped foot beyond the school's threshold. Tell me, how many appointed Defence Professors had ever faced a dark force anywhere as formidable as a Basilisk?" Snape asked, his voice echoing, puncturing the muted mutterings that permeated the chamber.

One of the councilmen at Malfoy's shoulder leaned in with a timid opinion. "The boy's right. His achievement against the dark forces is already beyond any minimum requirement we ask of applicants as it is."

To which Abraxas Malfoy warded off with a withering glare. "And are we to reward every accidental success of dangerous endeavours? To encourage further recklessness from these foolhardy children." A sentiment Snape could wholeheartedly get behind, but in this context, he'd have to field the other team.

"I suppose the fact I was legally an adult in my decision matters not? A risk taken legally, and resoundingly successfully." Snape offered lightly, the muttering that received his words ringing positive in his ears.

"And am I to believe this ability to maim and dismember ancient creatures will translate into a skill with passing on curricular knowledge to future generations?" Malfoy asked pointedly.

"To only one generation, Mr Chairman. For we all know no Defence teacher has lasted more than that," Snape replied smoothly, casting the room to daunted silence, for they all knew too well what he meant. "And for this purpose, the contract Headmaster Albus Dumbledore had written up explicitly states that I will be teaching for the term of one year. And in deference to the jinx that would otherwise claim me, I will persist no longer than that."

A third councilman piqued up, this one calm and grounded in his tone as he was in his years. "If you know the dangers so well, then you know why we advise strongly against it, Mr Snape. You are surely talented, we do not dispute that. I myself have been following your achievements quite closely since that resounding breakthrough in Alchemy. It would be a waste to lose you to a long-known jinx so early in your life and career."

"Then it is all the more confirmed that the fruits of my mind are worthy of being passed on to others. The decision to bear this risk is legally my own." Snape returned, his tone equally even.

"And our children's detriment to bear." Malfoy growled, not giving an inch.

The third speaker turned to his Chairman. "But what are our better options, Abraxas? He may not be as wise in the world as we would like, but compared to our previous appointments… his youth would even be advantageous. There's no threat of him turning senile partway through the year." Referring no doubt to Professor Motley's unfortunate turn the year prior. The Professor had been so old that he started the year not entirely together, and ended it on an entirely different continent.

"There are witches and wizards aplenty who could field the expertise we're after." Malfoy persisted.

"And yet they clamour to apply for this infamous position, don't they?" the dissident spoke with an air of finality, as Snape's Slytherin wiles whispered victory in his ear.

It seemed those whispers reached the ears of the elder Malfoy too as he fixed him with one last withering glare. "Call to vote then. All in favour of appointing a Professor that's barely left the school's swaddle?"

Hands shot up from either end of the table, several pausing quite hesitantly, noting that their chairman had pointedly not raised his hand. A scowl touched the man's lips, displeasure radiating from his very form. "We will be humouring Dumbledore's whims yet again it seems. May you turn out a better outcome than his other motions of madness."

Without another word, Snape stood and bowed respectfully, taking his leave with a sweep of his robe tails, turning his back to the urgent mutterings that had kicked up in the surrounding galleys. The youngest Professor in the history of Hogwarts. It seemed Snape would be making his mark upon this world in the annals of history.

But Snape was not left long to his own thoughts as the sound of footsteps alerted him to another's approach. He cautiously slowed his steps, glancing discretely through the veil of his hair.

"You needn't be so tense, Severus. It's only me," came that familiar lilt. A voice he had got to know so well through a lifetime of association, and one he knew to trust only as far as his own worth would carry him.

"Lucius," Snape greeted, turning to greet the man as was polite with an acquaintance.

Those cold grey eyes swept over Snape, taking in his respectable garb, decorated far too garishly for Snape's honest taste. "You've done well for yourself since we last spoke it seems," he crooned in a soft lilting tone.

"I have met with brushes of fortune, yes," Snape confirmed, his dark eyes appraising Lucius in like. "You too, I hear. The Black family is ancient and noble. Congratulations on your match with Narcissa. May your marriage be a long and prosperous one."

Small talk. That was how Slytherins manoeuvred. Sizing one another's intentions and abilities through the filter of politeness.

It was odd to see this man so youthful again. It was hard not to see how very like him young Draco had been. His silver-blond hair already shoulder length, still sporting that impeccable dress sense that classified dress robes as casual wear. It made Snape all the more aware he had done precisely the same in recent days.

The snake-headed cane that would become his trademark, however, was not at his side. Still in the possession of his father, no doubt, for Snape knew it was a Malfoy heirloom and did not enter Lucius' possession until his father's untimely death in three years' time. Illness, another victim of Dragon Pox, the bane of the old, frail and the very young. And a funeral Lucius had been unable to attend due to his incarceration over his role played on the wrong side of the Wizarding War.

"I can see why you jilted my offer. It seems you did not need my sponsorship after all." Those words, spoken politely, were laced with barbs. Snape had insulted the man by never writing back, never fulfilling his end of a hateful bargain so eagerly struck by his youthful self.

But Snape was beyond apologies. "A different opportunity presented itself. I'm sure you could understand."

He would always be grateful for what Lucius had done for him the first time around, but the cost had been too appallingly great. It was not a fate he would ever choose willingly again.

But even so, he did not wish to burn this bridge with the Malfoys. For all the darkness their family would bring to the wizarding world, Snape could not forget the kindness they had offered him when no one else would, ulterior though their motives might have been. A poor reason to solicit the devil, but it was a debt Snape could not simply forget.

"And what of you, Lucius? Do you still believe in the path you once spoke of?"

Those cold grey eyes fixed him with a withering look. "Do you really need to ask?" Snape didn't. In this period of time, and the decades to come, Lucius would remain unwavering in his pureblood beliefs. It was a foolish hope, and one that could have only existed in his mind as it was now, steeped in sentiment.

"To think I had once thought you so promising," Lucius drawled, so dismissive in his sneer, "and all it took was a woman's siren calls to shake you from the path of greatness."

Snape lowered his eyes in a show of contrition. "Had I known myself back then, I would not have wasted your time. I offer my sincerest apologies."

Perhaps the lightness of his tone had appeared as mockery to the man, but Lucius' eyes narrowed in vehemence. "Careful, Severus. You have become quite prominent in recent days. Too… visible, for your own good."

Snape felt the bite of gooseflesh upon his skin, the subtle threat touching too close to his greatest fears.

"But you are quite fortunate that greatness has little time for you, despite the insults you rendered upon his grand name." Lucius continued, his drawling lilt colouring his tone. "And perhaps you should be further thankful that I hadn't wagered enough upon your flouted potential to have boasted your claim prematurely. I do not doubt that even _he_ would dedicate some of his valuable time to you, should he come to know you had intended to insult him directly and deliberately."

Snape's black eyes met grey, understanding the subtle meaning behind it. These words turned a threat into a warning, perhaps the last kindness he could expect of Lucius Malfoy. A warning Snape intended to heed, for he was no foolhardy Gryffindor, too brave for his own hide.

"Thank you, Lucius. I will heed your advice and render myself… less visible."

* * *

How fast the weather had changed; surprisingly fast for the Southern parts of the Isles. There was not a cloud to be seen the morning Snape had set forth for his hearing, yet when he returned, flooding torrents swept the streets.

Few wizarding houses were left unprotected from apparition, for it made it too simple to be trespassed, even by accident. And even in unwarded households, the risk of encountering unexpected objects while reappearing was quite high, whether by absentmindedness or by imprecise Apparition.

Snape placed the highest faith in his abilities and his memory, but even he wouldn't risk Apparating into his new household, had he been able. Mostly because he could not reasonably expect everything to be how he left it when he departed, now that he was no longer living alone. Especially considering how quickly and drastically Lily had taken to redecorating the moment they moved what little they had from their room in the Leaky Cauldron.

Even as Snape stood at the door, dispelling the drenching with a Drying Charm, he could see a pile of shoes by the door, far too many for any one person to use, or even need. And it wasn't as if Lily had this many pairs for immediate use, many of them being quite new. She had stored them all in a cupboard in her old room for "future use," and for some reason every one of them had made it out into the hallway.

Snape suppressed a sigh over the mess, turning his wand to the wet patches he had dripped upon the floor. The school House Elves had done a spectacular job making this place fit for living, yet in the space of a day they had managed to generate another mess and a half.

Despite the gloom brought about by the sweeping storm outside, the lamp suspended above the hallway remained unlit. The darkness persisted throughout the immediate rooms of the lower floors, causing the man a touch of concern.

"I'm home," he called out, his voice swallowed by the gloom. An action so foreign to him that he could not help but wince with self-consciousness. He had never had anyone to return home to, in this life or the last.

No voice answered him back, causing a bristle of concern and his imagination to run wild. It was most likely she had simply left to traipse and explore without a word, just like the day before, and Snape's worry was for naught, except his ring whispered otherwise. She was here, somewhere further inside, reassuring him with her presence.

With a tense sigh, the soon-to-be professor strode down the hallway, giving passing rooms a cursory glance in case he could find his adventurous wife passed out somewhere. The decorative exertions had taken a lot out of her the night before with the result that she had fallen into a dead slumber the moment her head had touched the pillows, leaving Snape to ignore the twist of disappointment as he had settled on the opposite side of the grand bed.

Even now, he could see changes from the morning in the décor and furnishings. The dining room table had spouted china vases overnight, complete with conjured bouquets of unseasonal flowers. A garish tablecloth spread over the noble wood of the table, keeping so in tune with the muggle style of the seventies.

A new painting had been hung upon the wall over the dining room fireplace, muggle in make. It depicted a cluster of rabbits, frolicking in a sickeningly adorable sort of way, and prompting the regal Hippogriff artwork into a fit of activities. Unfortunately for the painted beast, magical and non-magical paintings were incompatible, and the cluster of static rabbits remained out of the hunter's talons.

The lounge room too had not passed by unscathed. The sofas and armchairs had been pushed closer together to make room for a small tea table and a couple of chairs, perhaps intended for afternoon tea without risk to the carpeting or a game of wizarding chess. Upon the fireplace mantle, those snow globes were gathered. Her father's collection, he knew, and tolerated as such. It was not his place to voice an opinion when it came to Lily's late father.

However, she had added a touch of her own to that collection. He spied the crystal bottle of her enchanted memories among those trinkets, the tiny silver doe prancing feyly upon the spot. Snape didn't know how to feel about such a private gift displayed in such a public room.

The sound of a door opening yanked Snape's attention from the cluttered refurbishing. His instant reaction was to draw his wand despite his confidence in the wards upon the property, only to have relief touch his heart upon the sound of her voice.

"Sev. Is that you?" Lily's voice rang out from the back of the house. So she hadn't gallivanted away to adventures he had not been informed about.

"Of the very few that could cross this threshold, I was always the most likely," Snape returned, stalking down the hall towards her voice. Only to meet her round the bend, drenched to the skin and dripping a trail from the laundry.

"Thank goodness you're home!" she exclaimed, pushing her sodden hair from over her eyes.

But before another word could pass her lips, Snape blasted her with the drying charm and a few choice words. "Illness befalls those who play in the rain, Lily."

Lily rolled her eyes, her red hair frizzy from the sudden drying. "A little rain never killed anyone."

"The victims of pneumonia will be pleased to hear so," Snape muttered, already turning his wand to the wet patches throughout the hallway.

"And I wasn't playing in the rain," Lily claimed as she hurried forward, stepping urgently in front of him and straight into a puddle she had left. "I'm trying to figure out the enchantment on the house and how to cross it."

Snape's eyes narrowed. "Is this for curiosity's sake?" he asked, hopefully. Because the mere fact she was standing before him meant she wasn't having difficulties with the wards.

"Not… exactly." She grimaced a little sheepishly, which prompted Snape to realise they'd had a visitor while he was away.

And sure enough, when he followed her to the laundry room, he spotted Marlene McKinnon staring blindly through the privacy-enchanted windows, soaked thoroughly by the torrential downpour.

 _Gryffindors and their absent sense of self-preservation…_

* * *

Warm and dry, Lily sat across the tea table with Marlene in the dining room, sipping hot tea from their mugs. Severus had prepared some the moment he got the girls out of the rain, and the rain out of the girls, chastising them for risking illness so thoughtlessly. He really could be a mother hen.

Halfway through Lily's morning, as she had been furiously decorating the house with the eclectic mix of furniture she had in storage from her childhood home, Marlene had arrived unannounced.

Welcoming a change of pace from housework and stressing her head in over Sev's meeting with the Board of Governors, Lily greeted her best friend excitedly. Only, Marlene couldn't to step across the threshold of the front door.

After about half an hour's worth of exploring every window and alternative entrance into the house, they had settled to take tea in the back garden, but then it had suddenly and unexpectedly started pouring. Lily could not fathom their foul luck as their teacups filled with rain. She tried to conjure a marquee to ward off the worst of the storm, but the wind was too fast and the rain was too thick to be denied.

But then she felt Sev's return by the magic of her ring, and within minutes of cluing him to the situation, he had resolved the baffling problem. Apparently, the ward upon the household prevented entry to anyone without invitation of the resident in chief, and with the main key in Sev's possession, that right belonged solely to him.

After both girls were dried off, they were ushered into the living room, a fire roaring merrily in the hearth. Marlene looked a little confused by the hospitality from the generally brusque young man, and could only watch with mild disconcertion as Sev bustled off to find some confectionary to go alongside the offered hot drink.

"All dressed up and serving tea. You got him trained nicely," Marlene quipped the moment he was out of earshot.

"Oh I do some of the housework too," Lily grumbled, feeling the magnitude of her redecoration upon her shoulders and mind. Sev hadn't helped an ounce on that part, grumbling over the hassle over changing something so frivolous. But that was the point of having a home, giving it a touch that was your own, and Lily liked to think that he understood that in some way.

"Yet he seems to get a reign of the kitchen. Got him that apron yet?" Marlene asked with a pointed smirk.

Lily smiled through her sip of tea with a roll of her eyes. "Trying to introduce anything into his wardrobe is like pulling teeth."

"Oh my. Tried it already?"

"Nah, no budget," Lily waved off the thought. "Besides, there's far more dire things to spend on in terms of his apparel, and mine too, now that I think about it. I need to get a set of decent working robes before my first day of work on Monday."

"Oh yeah, you've already landed a job. Read something about that in that last owl you sent." Marlene leaned forward with interest. "You got into enchanting right? Pandy would be green as."

Somehow, Lily honestly doubted that the studious girl would be the kind to have others' successes count against her own. "Think I lucked out on my job? Guess what Sev's is."

Marlene waved it off almost flippantly as she stirred in two spoons of sugar and a dollop of cream. "Apprentice to some bigshot potioneer. I remember."

"Actually, he turned that down," Lily said as she reached for the sugar bowl herself. Straight black tea wasn't to her taste, despite Sev swearing by that stuff. "Instead he's been offered the role of next year's Defence Professor."

"Get out of town!" Marlene gasped, visibly tickled by that notion. "Ol' Sevvy a Professor?"

"I know right?" Lily could barely contain her own excitement. But she quickly sobered up with an occurring thought. "Provided he passed his hearing with the Governors… It was today. I hadn't asked…"

"They approved," Severus answered as he strode in with a small tray of assorted biscuits, an item of indulgence obviously picked out from Lily's side of the pantry. She had joked that they could paint a line straight down their pantry to divide his culinary tastes from hers.

"Congratulations, Professor Severus," Marlene hailed quite sincerely.

"Professor Snape," Sev corrected almost automatically, before wincing and excusing himself from the conversation. Hospitality seen to, no doubt he felt there was no more need for his presence.

"Mmm. These biscuits are real good. Snape make them?" Marlene asked, already with three in her mouth.

"Nope. From a muggle grocery," Lily replied, dunking hers before indulging. "He doesn't eat sweets, and you can't trust a baker who shuns his own creations."

But even as she said that, Lily was beginning to believe otherwise. It seemed as if he had the ability to cook absolutely anything, no matter how south of his culinary interest it was. He had handled dinner just the night before, pulling off a mouth-watering casserole with home-baked bread. Where he found the time to prove the bread and prepare the notoriously slow cooked meal was anyone's guess, but when Lily finally flopped down for a rest between adjusting furniture, she was greeted with the succulent smells. He hadn't even neglected dessert, despite having obvious disdain for the meal group, clubbing together a bite each of simple strawberry tart that was more tart than sweet, and oddly one that he didn't object to partaking of as well. Sev never liked sweet things, and Lily had always taken it to mean the flavour universally.

Even waking up this morning, she had noted porridge on the stove, ready to be warmed when she was ready to break her fast. He had ensured to make enough for her as well, so telling with his thoughtfulness.

"I tell yah, if it weren't for his house-elf, James would be up the creak without a paddle. I swear, if he expects me to do all the cooking…"

Lily's eyes grew wide. "Are you two living together?"

Marlene looked momentarily uncomfortable. "No… I mean… not yet. We're planning to… sort of."

"Do I hear wedding bells in the distance?" Lily teased, to which Marlene pulled a face.

"Oh come off it, Lil's. I get that all day with mum and pop. Living together is… well yeah being close and all that. But also so we know if something were to happen…" she trailed off as Lily's green eyes widened.

It had only been days since graduation, and she had come out knowing what lurked out here in the real world. The terrifying shadow that loomed over the state of things, but all the same, in light of concerns of the real world, she had pushed it to the very back of her mind.

"How bad is it?" Lily couldn't help but ask. She hadn't been keeping up with the news. Even at school, when she had the newspaper readily made available by more civic-minded classmates, she couldn't bring herself to keep updated regularly. A combination of reluctance to hear ill news and general poor discipline had her only sparsely informed.

Marlene grimaced, as if unable to grasp for the words to describe the state of things. "The Dark Mark was over Aberlour last night… Murder in broad daylight. Muggle family. It's a small mercy that it was just a small Scottish town, but even so I watched the ministry Obliviators run about for over three hours rounding up every one of them."

"You were there?" Lily breathed, horrified by the thought of how close Marlene had been to the whole terrifying scenario.

"Arrived late. Didn't do much good," Marlene answered, almost flippantly. "Rushed there the moment I heard. Scottish Wizarding Society is close-knit. News gets around quickly."

Lily felt the worry clutch at her heart. "Please be careful, Marlene. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Yeah, likewise. That's why I fight," she replied, her jaw set with determination. "Same as why Jamie-boy wants to fight, and Sirius, and would you believe it, Remus and Peter. We're all joining a secret army. James got us the contacts."

Shame touched Lily's heart. Suddenly, she couldn't meet her best friend's eyes. They all had taken up arms in this war, despite having far less of a stake in it than she did. After all it was her people, people like her family, being targeted by these monsters.

But she had promised…

"I want to help…" Lily muttered, low and hesitant. "I want to… but I promised Severus that I wouldn't endanger myself…"

"That's going to be difficult if things keep getting worse," Marlene observed, taking another sip of tea.

Lily had to agree. She glanced away, her heart constricting with worry and guilt. Her friends were out there, fighting a battle that should have been hers as well. Fighting to save lives, risking their own. Every life equivalent in worth to her own.

"I want to help," Lily whispered with a tone of conviction.

A rebellious smile alit upon her best friend's lips. "Hush, hush from the lord of the kitchens."

* * *

Starting a new job should have been the most exciting highlight of Lily's Monday, as should be with every young person. A milestone in their life, as it were. But this day was to be the day she was to be introduced to this mysterious secret army formed to combat the forces of You-Know-Who.

All the same, she took to her employment training with great enthusiasm and managed to perform quite competently in every element. She took to charming objects like an absolute natural, and proved quite popular at the front of House with the patrons. Madam Swelley seemed quite pleased with her ability, promising to involve her in the enchantments the moment another order for the expensive and tricky process came in.

But with the day ended, the anticipations of the evening drew in, her nerves jangled as guilt clutched her. Guilt had been riding on her since her talk with Marlene, in the days leading up to this meeting. Through every touch and affectionate exchange with Severus, every commitment they promised to each other.

That she would break her promise to him so easily…

He had asked her to stay out of the war for his sake. To not needlessly endanger herself and grant him peace of mind. But she had made that promise knowing in her heart she might have to break it. That she could not sit by with good conscience as a war waged on and her friends risked their lives on her behalf.

At the very least she could strike a compromise. See if she could find a less dangerous role to serve, as galling a prospect that might be. But she couldn't sit around and do nothing, persisting in her apathetic ignorance.

Marlene came to pick her up right from the shopfront at the end of her training shift that afternoon, dressed in flowing black. "Oh man, oh man!" she jittered with excitement. "We're going to be cool as hell, warriors of the light!"

"Yep… cool." Lily couldn't have put less enthusiasm into her response, prompting her best friend to turn an appraising eye upon her.

"Cold feet already?"

Lily shook her head vigorously. "Not even. I'm totally ready for this!" she made a show of pumping her fists, causing her blue and white work robe sleaves to shift to her elbows. In retrospect, she should have invested in more sensible sleaves in a set of robes intended for work, but that could be dealt with in later days as income rolled in.

"No half-arsing this, Lil's. This is life or death. You gotta be a hundred percent committed," Marlene said, surprisingly sagely.

"I know. Believe me I do. I just… don't like sneaking about behind Sev's back," Lily confessed without much urging, spilling the great weight riding upon her conscious easily to her best friend. "He made me promise months ago that I'd stay out of it all… and I promised him at the time, 'cause, you know."

"You just got to shagging."

Lily lit up like a Stunning Spell. "Married, thank you very much." They turned down an alleyway, the one they had prearranged a meeting with the contact. Shadows pressed upon them as the angling sun disappeared from view. "And that's why Sev's got a right to worry about this."

"But tell him and he'll never let you out of his sight again," her best friend jibed, but to Lily that was worryingly close to her own thoughts on the matter. There were many things she knew as a certainty of this young man she had known all her life, and one of which is he would not allow her to cross danger's path willingly, or be willing to indulge or support her in this decision.

And this was a decision she had every right to make for herself. This was her war, and she would be one of those that would be directly persecuted should those foul Death Eaters have their way. Severus, though his concern was legitimate, though his grief would no doubt be heinous, had to realise it was not his decision to make. For he could only choose what his own life meant to him, and not for others, no matter his intent.

"Don't worry. I've made my mind. I'm not going to lose my nerve," Lily muttered, steeling her heart. Looking forward was easy, courage in the face of overwhelming adversity was a Gryffindor staple. It was looking back that was hard. The fear for what she might be leaving behind should the worst come to pass.

"Makes two of us, Lil's," Marlene confirmed, with an arm thrown about her shoulder.

"Good to hear, girls," came a voice out of nowhere in the dark recesses of the alleyway, and before Lily knew it, a hand wrapped about her wrist and she was yanked through a tight squeeze of an apparition.

Both girls found their feet in a stifling wooden room made for storage, only lit by candlelight, both with wands in hand and whipping about with wand raised, only to meet the upraised hands and grinning face of a young man of no real threatening demeanour. "Easy there, girls. Sturgis Podmore. Substituting Gideon as your contact for the Order. Please don't hex me."

"Surprise us like that again and I can't promise you anything," Marlene muttered darkly as she stowed away her wand. "We're fighting a war against evil here. What's the big idea startling us like that if you didn't want your square face re-transfigured?"

"Apologies. Secrecy and all that. You understand right?" The young man laughed, with an apologetic air. "I apologise for any heart attacks I might have caused. I'm a Gryffindor like you. Graduated three years ahead of you, either of you remember?"

Lily could only sheepishly shake her head, as too did Marlene. "Sorry, didn't know everyone in the years above, or below."

Sturgis sighed again in mock hurt. "Yet I know you. Marlene McKinnon, swiftest Chaser on team Gryffindor, and sharpest tongue too I'll bet." Then he turned to Lily. "And are you not the lovely Lily Evans? Truth be told I never pegged you for one to get down and dirty with us meatheads on the front lines."

"Well I am a Gryffindor," Lily replied, then quickly added. "And it's Lily Snape now though."

"Married already?" Sturgis' blond eyebrows leaped to his thatched fringe. "Well I guess I shouldn't be too surprised that a lovely thing like you got snapped up quickly. You really don't remember me? I sent you a few cards on Valentines."

Lily was immediately struck sheepishly silent and Marlene leapt to her defence. "You're barking up the wrong tree mate. She gets a tonne and a half of those each year. You're just one of the numbers. She wound up marrying a guy who never sent her the one."

"Ah well, bugger it all. I was too shy in my schooldays anyway," Sturgis waved them to follow as he mounted the steps, only to push it open and reveal a short hallway already filled with voices.

Lily followed on, curiosity mingling with apprehensiveness in equal measures. The short hallway connected several rooms in this cosy household, all of which Sturgis stepped past, headed straight for the closed door at the very end.

He pushed it open, with a bellow, "Welcome, to the Order of the Phoenix!"

The stark lamplight filtered through the doorway, each window blinded shut from the fading daylight beyond. Around a table in the centre, a gathering had already formed along the long table in this room.

"More fresh faces to count towards the Tally?" A severe looking wizard rounded upon them with a frown.

"Always an influx with each graduation. And always from Gryffindor," a more familiar witch agreed. "Cheers, by the way. Long-time no see, you two."

"Alice!" Lily exclaimed, rushing to envelope her friend in a hug. "I haven't seen you since your graduation three years ago! How have you been?"

Behind her Sturgis muttered, "Sure. Remember her and not me."

But Alice's smile didn't falter the least. "Well. I got married for one," she chirped happily. "To Frank Longbottom, remember him?"

"That pudgy one from Hufflepuff? Really? You married him?" Lily asked enthusiastically, completely forgetting this was not the ideal social setting.

A reminder she was given promptly. "If you want to catch up, please take it outside. We're conducting war here," the gruff man barked, but Alice didn't seem phased by his chastisement in the least.

"Let me introduce to you to Edgar Bones, my Auror mentor," Alice said with a sigh. "Don't let him fool you. He's a real lark when he's on duty too."

"We are on duty," Auror Bones barked. "Order business _is_ duty."

"Not until everyone else comes, it's not," Alice waved him off without an ounce of contrition, seeming unfazed by her mentor's ire. "Let me introduce everyone at least. That's at least relevant isn't it, Edgar?" The Auror grunted, as close to an affirmative as Lily supposed they were going to get, and Alice wasted no time in pointing out those present.

"Dedalus Diggle," she pointed to a bubbly wizard sitting by the window.

He tipped his top hat in greeting, seeming unable to stop fidgeting even for the brief greeting he gave. "Pleasure to meet you," he squeaked in positive mirth.

"Elphias Doge," she motioned to the elderly wizard in the corner, sporting a funny looking hat lined up and down with what looked like peacock feathers. "Don't let his appearance fool you, Lily. He's Dumbledore's oldest friend and a fierce fighter."

To which he peeped up. "I would insist that the description of 'fierce fighter' warrants greater priority in that description than 'Dumbledore's oldest friend.'"

"Nah. Everyone here's a fierce fighter. You carry a rarer achievement," Alice replied only half-jokingly, before turning to a tall, dark and gloomy-looking witch. "And this is-"

"Emmaline Vance!" Lily greeted, recognising the Ravenclaw Prefect from two years above. "I thought you were going into the Ministry."

To which the witch replied, "I _am_ in the Ministry. Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. And a catastrophe these last few years has definitely been."

Lily winced, very much able to imagine the workload of cleaning up after a hostile force of renegade wizards.

Emmaline sighed in a show of her frustration. "Trust me, with how things are at my workstation right now, I would have given this meeting a miss. But I can't leave a fellow Ravenclaw recruit alone in the midst of so many Gryffindors."

Which caused Lily to realise the girl who was silently reading beside the Ministry Witch was none other than Dorcas Meadow.

"Hello, Lily," she greeted chirpily.

"Dorcas. I didn't know you wanted to fight too," Lily harked, delighted.

To which the witch replied, "I don't. I'm here for non-combat roles only."

"Oh. Are those options available?" Lily asked, her mind already weighing her options between her duty to the war effort, and her duty to her husband.

Before anymore could be said, the door opened between her to admit another set of people, but these ones were definitely familiar. "Lily, you're here too?" Remus asked, visibly surprised as James fell into a seat by his girlfriend.

"Wasn't going to sit this one out. Not with so much on the line," Lily confessed, exchanging a nod with Black and a friendly wave to Peter. They were accompanied by Fabian and Gideon, the two hellions that graduated only a year above them. It didn't surprise Lily in the least that these two troublemakers would somehow find themselves with this eclectic mix, or that they would turn out to be James' contacts.

"This is quite the haul this year," Auror Bones mused as he cast his appraising eye about the room. "But how many can make the cut, truly?"

"You'll find no weak links among my year," James harked quite optimistically, to the nervous grimace of Peter's.

The door opened once more, admitting just one entrant to this steadily too crowded room. "Sorry for my tardiness," huffed a brown haired man with large forward pointing ears. "Mad-Eye insisted on a sweep of the surroundings, just to be sure. He's sweeping the inside too, just to be sure."

"Nothing we didn't expect, Frank," Alice sighed, and prompting Lily and company to start with surprise. This was not the Frank she remembered.

"You've lost a lot of weight there, Longbottom," Marlene harked with a thumbs up. "Good on yah mate."

The gangly man gave a wide grin that looked so awkward on his now too-thin face. "Can't be fat and keep up with the life of an Auror."

"Especially these days," Alice agreed with a quick peck on the cheek to her husband.

"Best thing to happen to me upon joining the Auror service, mum keeps telling me," Frank remarked soberly.

His wife responded by tugging his ears playfully. "And what about meeting me?"

"You're the best thing! You're the best thing!" the young man said quickly with a wince.

Bones, sat back in his seat with a sigh. "Where in magical Britain is Moody? Would that paranoid loon of an Auror just get his knotted old ass in here so we can start?"

"I'm already here," came a startling voice. A gruff old wizard sat in the corner, scowling as his electric blue eyes never stopped flickering in every direction. Lily could see why Frank had referred to him as Mad-Eye. "Had I been a Dark Wizard you would be dead." But to be fair, Lily hadn't noticed either, nor had any of the other participants in the room, for that matter, if their wide-eyed surprise was anything to go by. But Moody was nowhere as merciful to his fellow Auror. "Ever vigilance, Edgar. Your perception is failing you."

"Or my patience," Bones sighed, sinking into his seat.

"At the very least we've all gathered," Alice chirped happily, seemingly trying to entice her mentor into a better mood. An uphill battle it seemed.

"One more, it seems. Dumbledore has just Apparated into the cellar," Moody barked, to which Lily and all of her friends started with surprise. The eccentric headmaster was one of the last people they expected to meet again out in the real world, let alone in this context.

Frank laid a low whistle. "It's like you can see through walls."

"I lay down wards in any structure I'm expected to spend any pre-determined time in. You might want to copy this habit if you wish to remain alive in this field of work, Longbottom," the grizzled Auror barked. "Dumbledore's not alone, neither. Seems he's brought a recruit of his own."

Audible interest rippled amongst the older members. This, evidently, was not a common occurrence.

"I see my presence was expected," Dumbledore remarked happily when he stepped inside. "And my, what a grand gathering we have this year. I thank each and every one of you for lending us your strength in these testing times to come." His blue eyes slid about the room, meeting the eyes of each and every one of them, until it seemed to hesitate upon Lily's.

"Brought one too, did you?" Edgar asked, and seemed all the more irritated for having Moody notice first, and being proven right in this regard.

For there was another standing behind Dumbledore, paused in the doorway, seeming to blend with the shadows of the hallways beyond. Only those black eyes could not be hidden by the shadows, seeming to bore into Lily's soul.

* * *

"You blocked my application with the Order?"

"And you swore to me you would not expose yourself to risk so foolishly."

The argument started the moment they set foot back into their household, and Snape could not be more thankful for the privacy wards. Perhaps his neighbours too, had they known the risk their peace was placed upon.

"I was not going to choose a combat role. And you would stop me from contributing even in that respect? How dare you?" Lily accused, angry tears in her eyes. They hadn't even made it past the hallway, not even had a chance to settle themselves in the lounge room.

"Can we not sit down first? To discuss this across a table like adults?" Snape was on the back foot. How was it that he was the one in trouble when Lily had gone out of her way to engage the Order behind his back? They had not even set foot back into their household before this argument began.

It had been a tense meeting, standing across the table from his wife, seething with indignation and rage that she had done what she did. Not just that, but had taken the first opportunity to do so.

Snape knew this was the first recruitment meeting of the year, and that suitable graduate candidates would be brought in and vouched for by their contacted sponsors. It was not a simple process to stumble upon.

And in spite of all that. That Lily should find herself not only invited, but to have accepted? Did her promise mean nothing to her?

But it seemed Lily was the inconsolable one. She seethed at him, stumbling him into the lounge room, seats and civility forgotten. "And you! You are an incredible hypocrite! You had been working for the Order the entire time and never said a word?"

"I've only officially become recruited today," Snape replied, his tone level, struggling against his own anger.

"And yet already held in such high esteem that you able to use your position to veto me?"

That had been how the evening ended, as the new recruits were inducted. An apologetic Dumbledore had waved Lily to the side and apologetically denied her application. Though the old man was shrewd enough to not mention Snape in regards to the outcome, there was little illusion as to where that executive decision originated.

"And had you kept to your vows to me, I would not have had to. THIS WAS ON YOU!" Snape roared, his own temper flaring, advancing on the girl who shrunk back in start. But that shadow of fear that swept past those widened green eyes stopped him in mid furore.

Silence filled his ears. Her fear choking him worse than her anger ever could. "I need you…" was all he managed with a whisper.

Those green eyes softened, "I know, Severus," she murmured, hands reaching out to stroke his face. To pacify that dark terror and rage broiling beneath his poorly painted surface. "I know but… I can't be the only one not fighting. A coward to hide behind you all while all of you risk life and limb in a war to protect those like me."

"Then endure it," Snape growled, unable to meet those earnest green eyes. "The fear of cowardice is the least you can endure on my behalf."

Lily finally glanced away, releasing a breath as if in relenting. Snape brought his arms about her, sensing her emotions quelled, sensing his point made and accepted.

"I will not take undue risks, you know this of me. I pick my battles wisely, and my greatest weapon is my wits," he murmured into her ear. A promise of his own to make. "Dumbledore will not risk me unduly, as I still perform a vital role for him within his own eaves. Those students he once feared lost are gathered beneath my guidance, to be moulded or smothered by my influence. My risk is low, and I ask you to minimise your own." He placed a chaste kiss upon her crown, feeling her tension surrender to his embrace. "A war has many fronts to fight on, and not all of us are warriors. Not all of us need die. And not all of us need serve. Live your life, Lily. Paint your brilliance upon the world. The war can do without."

* * *

A/N: My predictions shall be, half of the people reading will be annoyed by how unreasonable Lily is with breaking promises, while half the other half will be how horribly controlling Snape is. And almost everyone will be annoyed at Marlene for facilitating it.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and cookeroach for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 9th March 2019 AEDT.

 **Chapter 55: Trained by Order and Madness**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	55. Trained by Order and Madness

**Chapter 55: Trained by Order and Madness**

The first purse of coins won by toil, and to Lily that weighty clink of sickles felt heavier than any pocket money her father had gifted her. When she stepped out of Gringotts, purse clinking within her deep pockets, she already knew exactly what to spend her first earnings on.

Upon joining the Order, Severus had been called away several times a week to attend some form of training, headed by one of the four Aurors present that induction day. Lily always knew when those days were coming because she would find his faded grey school robes hung up and ready for the next morning. He was too sensible to wear his dress robes to physical activities but had no reasonable alternatives to wear otherwise.

When she returned home that day she had a parcel under each arm. Kicking off her shoes at the door without setting a single item down, she closed the door behind her with a swing of her hip and a mutter of a spell. "Sev, I'm home!" she called, expecting his answering voice to be from the kitchen.

She was used to returning home to the smells of dinner, an amusing roles reversal in the standard household. Severus made it a point to take care of the cooking and housework on days Lily was at work; an egalitarian division of labour, as it were. But tonight, there was no such smell of alluring culinary preparations, no sound or light from within the dining room or kitchen.

Perhaps urgent business had called him away. It would not be the first time. Especially now, with the media catching wind of his latest appointment to the Defence post. He was already receiving far more mail every morning than he ever had in his entire life as a student.

Endless questions and requests for interviews from newspapers, magazines and other media outlets, and at least one article of fan mail. Severus tried to be rid of it quickly, but not quickly enough for Lily's sharp eyes to spot. Oh, the teasing that precipitated. Severus was delightfully self-conscious about the attention he received.

But it seemed her assumptions were premature, as footsteps sounded from down the hall. Sev rounded the corner from behind the stairs, looking a little dazed at her appearance. He glanced first at the closest window, as if confused by the dimming light, then glanced to his pocket watch before wincing.

"I forgot to start dinner," he muttered, so very shamefaced for doing so.

Lily couldn't help the amusement that crept to her face. "Glad to know you're human. I was beginning to wonder."

She dumped the packages on a couch, vowing to remember to take care of them later, preferably before Sev bustled through in a tidying frenzy. Then promptly folded up her sleeves and headed for the kitchen.

"It's about time I got to help out with cooking," she chirped, pulling open the pantry and taking mental inventory. It took a while to adjust to life without a refrigerator, but Severus put things into perspective on the first day when he reminded her of the practical uses of stasis spells. Still, it felt a little odd to see beef sausages simply placed upon a dry shelf, next to a half-basket of eggs and a pat of butter.

"Bangers and mash. What do you think?" she asked over her shoulder.

Severus drew by the door, gazing in with his solemn, watchful air. "Sounds divine."

Lily got to work, charming the sausages out of their packaging, the potatoes and onions finding their respectful places in the pot and chopping board.

"So, what's got your head all misplaced? It's not like you to forget the time," Lily asked as she salted the potato water. "In fact, I distinctly remember you once boasting of an infallible internal clock."

"And I distinctly remember you experiencing the failure of said clock first hand," Sev grumbled back.

Lily couldn't help but smirk over the memory of that flustered brewing session, followed by a very hefty clean-up. "So, what happened today? I wasn't home, so it can't possibly be my fault this time."

Only in retrospect could she really find it in herself to laugh over it. At the time she had felt as if she had singlehandedly destroyed the world.

He didn't immediately answer, prompting her to look back at his adorably sheepish scowl as he mumbled his words. "Brewing. I was brewing."

Her brows drew together. "Brewing all day? Did something happen to the Wolfsbane?" He had gotten that brew started two days after they settled into this residence. A day after converting the basement into quite the intensive potion lab set up, aided by the quite convenient set up of shelves, cupboards and bench that was already placed by a like-minded soul.

"Nothing quite so droll," Sev replied, lending relief to her overactive imagination.

With a sweep of her wand, a frying pan sat upon the burner, with another sweep a dollop of oil spread itself about its surface. "Then what demonic potion could possibly scramble your pristine senses so?"

"Alchemy may have contributed," was Sev's sharp reply.

"Now that is simply too defensive for that to be the full story," Lily prodded with a teasing voice as she dumped the onions into the oil with a flick of her wand. She was immediately thankful her magic allowed her to stand three paces away when the hot oil spat violently.

Sev finally relented, allowing the words to fall out of him in a rush. "I was brewing a potion I lacked several ingredients for. It took me some time to individually transmute each missing element, from the looks of it, the better part of my day."

"Still not the full story," Lily prodded mercilessly as she tossed the sausages into the sizzling pan.

"I'm beginning to believe you a Legilimens," Sev grumbled.

Lily flashed a grin over her shoulder as she shelled peas over another saucepan with another flick of her wand. "Empathy can sometimes seem like magic, but it really isn't that much of a challenge with you, Sev. You wear your thoughts like a troubled child."

"I do no such thing," came his affronted rebuke, as if her observation had somehow hurt his complex pride.

Lily turned from the stove, content the process was bubbling along merrily. She brought her arms about him, to which he surrendered without any form of struggle. He finally relented the final piece of his puzzling day, so bashful in his confession. "I was brewing the potion that tasted of peach. It was transmuting each missing component that took me the better part of my day."

Lily withdrew from their embrace, her brows arched high. "So much effort for that one thing?"

"I had a whole day without anything to do," Sev muttered back, scowling away his self-consciousness.

"Would you like me to get you a set of gobstones then?" Lily asked sweetly.

"A subscription to the paper would be preferable," Sev replied, his redness fading from his pale cheeks. "And perhaps the actual ingredients to this potion. I cannot see myself toiling through this process daily."

"Surely not daily," Lily giggled, disengaging and returning to her stovetop, turning the snapping sausages with a flick of her wand.

"You don't… want to?" Sev could not sound more wounded.

Lily could not help the roll of her eyes. "Not daily, no." She strained out the potatoes, magically stripping off the loosened skin before dumping them into a waiting bowl. "But more often, sure."

She glanced back in time to see that so satisfied smirk ripple across his features. How he could think he was not absolutely transparent astounded her.

She stepped forward, meeting his lips with a peck of affection, eliciting a satisfied smile from his lips. "Well then, after dinner we have a little to discuss it seems. I'll need to bathe first but afterwards, meet me upstairs?" she asked so sweetly. To which he agreed all too readily.

* * *

Of all the things Snape had expected after dinner, forced modelling was not one of them. It seemed Lily had made several impulse purchases with him in mind without consulting him beforehand.

He supposed he should have thanked his lucky stars that she had enough of a sense of him to realise black was his colour, and that he didn't want anything with sweeping sleeves or trailing tails. But it was still a little too decorated for his tastes, with fancy threads embroidered in patterns about the buttons and seams. It was very much based upon the designs of his dress robes, right down to the little white does upon the sleeves. Not the sort of design Snape would have chosen to wear into an environment where he was already expected to endure the snide remarks of sodden children.

"Work robes are not meant to be decorative," Snape muttered as he glared down the white embroiders about his collar.

Lily's face fell, seeming to realise he did not seem thrilled with her purchase. "You don't like it?"

"It's functional," Snape replied, which it was. Light sturdy wool of a prim cut and quality make.

"But you still don't like it." It was now more a statement than a question. Lily always seemed to have this strange sense of the truth of the matter. An unnerving ability that had Snape oftentimes wondering if he shouldn't keep his mind at least a touch occluded while in her presence. But the sanctity of his own home had always been one of the few places he could purchase respite for his weary mind. As skilful as he was in the occluding arts, he stressed and fatigued as anyone would.

Once solitude was the only shelter he had in a hostile world; now he had so much more. But he had to learn to adapt to this cohabitation situation and unlearn his decades of unyielding solitary habits. Lily was no Legillimens. It was only his paranoia that whispered such threats in his ears.

And she meant well. She always meant well.

"It is appreciated… thank you, Lily," Snape relented.

But she read between the lines and refused to let this uncertainty go. "But what is it you don't like about it?"

Snape struggled momentarily with whether he should answer, before deciding that honesty was best in this respect "I have a taste for the practical and simple. I would have never chosen such decorative designs for myself."

Her green eyes cast away, an aura of dejection about her. "I just had thought… perhaps." Her delicate fingers flew to his sleeves, tracing the outline of the pretty white doe.

Without a word, Snape brought his hand over hers, a wordless gesture of understanding over a creature that was symbolic for both their hearts. A design that she chose for him, that meant so much to them both.

"I'll take it back," Lily muttered, gathering up the paper and twine, as well as the still-unopened parcel. "I'll get the embroidery torn out. Make it plain."

He took her hand before she turned away, touching her fingers to the emblem upon his sleeve. "Have them keep this," he muttered, his own fingers tracing that familiar outline. The heart he wore upon his sleeve that was no longer just his own.

Those green eyes met his, a smile sparkled within them, recognising the compromise he was willing to make. Stubbornness was the luxury of those who weathered life in solitude. For the gift of companionship, it wasn't so much a surrender as a willingness to adapt. And willingness to acknowledge that his decisions no longer affected only himself, nor should it.

With swift fingers, he undid his buttons and unbelted, not disliking the smile that touched Lily's lips. Once upon a time this might have been all it took for him to button straight back up, but he was well past these insecurities now.

He laid the robe top and bottoms upon the bed, at ease in his own skin despite the watching eyes. It was easy to trust her not to cast judgement on his poor form, made easier still by her willingness for proximity and intimacy. But all the same, he did not relish the feel of air upon skin that ought to be covered, and he made for his nightshirt. It being too hot for the bathrobe.

A sigh sounded behind him, causing Snape to turn to Lily with surprise at that audible expression of disappointment. "Since tonight's about compromise, can we talk about your sleepwear?"

Snape's fingers fumbled a button as he laced up that very article. "This feels like a negative opinion."

"You look like you're expecting a visit from a ghost of Christmas Past."

"I don't understand your reference."

He threaded his last button and stood awkwardly defiant before her appraising grimace. "Can't you choose another style of pyjamas?"

"Is there an issue?" Snape muttered, beginning to feel self-consciousness creeping up the back of his neck. She was already garbed in her own nightgown, not too different from his own, making her request all that more perplexing.

Lily pursed her lips as she gathered his discarded robes, and without folding it, bundled it back into the wrapping paper in a way that set Snape's teeth on edge. "It's not so much an issue… as a preference. I prefer a style that cropped up in a more recent century."

"I hadn't realised you had such a bugbear when it came to my sleeping attire." Snape frowned.

Lily sat herself bodily on her side of the bed. "It's… unattractive."

Well that's a futile statement. "If you're looking to me for attractiveness, I'm afraid you might be brewing in the wrong cauldron."

"Oh come off it. Don't put yourself down," Lily chastised with a wince. "I'm just… used to a certain elegance from you. Your Victorian era night frock is simply… frumpy."

Snape glared down his form, never finding fault in the robe-like sleepwear before. "It's a wizarding style. We were always traditional."

"But you already wear robes that are two-piece, why not two-piece pyjamas?" Lily asked hopefully.

"Because I expect to be allowed some degree of comfort while resting," Snape muttered, beginning to redden. This conversation wasn't so much mortifying as galling.

"Then what about less dressed? You've slept in just your pants before," Lily threw that suggestion out casually, not seeming to grasp the preconditions that came with each incidence.

Snape drew his fingers across his brow, a little at loss. "And you find my near-nudity preferable to a simple garb?"

"Infinitely so." She nodded with mock solemness. "Or if you really need a top, how about a short-sleeved t-shirt?"

"How is that simply not a ridiculously short nightshirt?"

"Well for one it doesn't even pretend to be a dress." Then with a salacious smile, added, "It's also easier when I don't have to spend half a minute unbuttoning you."

Snape's eyes narrowed, his heart thudded that fraction faster. His fingers flew unbidden to his own buttons as Lily's grin widened. So easily she could entice him with a smile, so easily she could lead his mind into directions unbecoming. His will was iron yet warped like putty in her hands. She had the power to change his mind, to make him compromise over issues where before there was no such yielding.

And compromise he would. His world had widened beyond his boarders of comfort, sweeping him up in this torrent of change. And all of it he would embrace, willingly.

* * *

It was the first day of the weekend, one of Lily's increasingly rare sleep-in days, which also ran concurrent to Sev's training day with the Order. A day's planned dozing cast awry by the sound of a visitor rattling the knocker and then promptly inviting themselves in.

Marlene had dropped by for a visit, by which Lily meant she found her best friend lounging on a sofa, chowing down on a hand full of the muggle biscuits straight out of the tin as the barely woken girl blinked from the staircase, trying to wake her mind up to speed.

That was the basic etiquette between them; there wasn't any need to ask permission one way or another. The same went for Lily whenever she was up in the McKinnon's household, though she always tried to be on her best manners despite the family's insistence. And when Marlene's two brothers were visiting, rest their souls, Lily could absolutely see where the girl's table manners came from. It was likely a good thing Sev was out this morning. He'd probably have a stroke over all the crumbs getting into the cracks of the sofa.

"Hey Lil's, got bored and thought I'd drop by for a visit," her best friend answered her unasked question when she emerged from the staircase, bleary-eyed. "Door just let me in this time. Wasn't even locked."

"It's never been locked. I think it's really just the wards that's meant to keep people out," Lily explained through a wide yawn. She had only ever seen a key used once, and that was by Severus, who then later explained that had been what was needed for him to forge the magical contract with the house and its enchantments.

"Good thing too, I suppose. Don't fancy waiting for Snape to let me in," Marlene mumbled, tucking into another biscuit.

"Mhmm," Lily agreed sleepily as she headed to the kitchen for some coffee and whatever she could find for breakfast. Since beginning work for true, Lily had begun to foster a taste for the bitter drink, especially since discovering its qualities when treated with cream and sugar like its tea counterparts.

Porridge was waiting for her, as was usual when Sev made breakfast, which was. With a quick spell upon the miniature coffee machine, already cleaned and ready from its no doubt earlier use that morning, Lily had a steaming cup in minutes, alongside her honey-ladened oats. With a spoon straight in the saucepan, Lily brought her fare out to eat upon the tea table in the lounge.

"Urgh. Is that what you're having for breakfast?" Marlene asked with a wrinkle of her nose. Porridge was probably not something the girl would even consider breakfast considering the hearty fare her Scottish kin put out.

"Hey I didn't have to cook it. A bonus in my books," Lily muttered, as she tucked in. She didn't know how he could eat it plain; it honestly needed the sweetness of the honey or otherwise it was just flavourless, texture-less mush.

Marlene settled herself across the table from her best friend, a half-eaten butternut biscuit hanging from her teeth. Lily summoned a plain wheat digestive from the open tin, dunking it into her coffee and trying her best to taste anything through the three-pronged attack of sweetness.

"So, what brings you out this early in the morning?" Lily asked after washing down her mouthful with regretfully sweetened coffee. "Not exactly the time of day I expect of a social, especially not from you."

"Urgh tell me about it." Marlene set the tin upon the table with a hollow weightless clang. "But since this whole training thing started, I have to wake up early and wind up falling asleep just as early."

"Won't change Sev's sleep pattern in the slightest. He's always up at the crack of dawn no matter what time he slept the night before," Lily muttered, going in for another bite.

Marlene swallowed her bite of biscuit. "Spares you the sight of him in the morning, I suppose."

"Must you have a go at him at every pass?" Lily snipped, scraping clean her morning meal.

All she received in answer was a relenting shrug. "Naw you're right. I'll admit he's got a lot of oomph now that I've seen him in action."

"You mean in training?" Lily asked, curiosity piqued.

"Yeah. It's crazy to see a stick figure guy whipping down Quidditch lads like James and Sirius. And me," she added after a pause, as if unsure if she quite qualified as a lad. "Bones asked and apparently, Sev had done a tonne of running before he went off and killed that basilisk."

Lily leaned forward, eyes wide with untempered interest. "I thought he seemed fitter. I just assumed it was just down to him no longer being half-starved."

"Plus he's quick. Blimey is he quick." Marlene continued with a shake of her head. "If he had reflexes like that why didn't he try for the Quidditch team? Slytherin would've put up far more of a fight with him in front of the hoops."

It was so rare to hear a compliment to her husband given non-grudgingly that Lily couldn't help the wide smile. "Well, being quick is the greatest advantage of a potioneer," she agreed eagerly.

"And a duellist too, it seemed. We're all taking turns getting our asses handed to us whenever we have practice matches. Mind you I think Ol' Moody seems to derive some demonic pleasure from how frequently he pits us against each other."

Lily winced, remembering the animosity between the bulk of the new recruits. "I can see this all going terribly wrong."

"Yeah, so did I. Thought they'd kill each other by week's out. Surprisingly, they're all still alive and kicking. Though injuries were rife. Severus never cursed me as hard though. Always annoyed me that he'd go easy…"

"And Sev's off training today, and from what you say, so is James. Another risk-high day." Lily sighed.

"Don't rest so easy. Sirius is there today too," Marlene proclaimed, seeming conversely amused by this point. "It's a Moody training day too. He likes to split us in threes to keep a closer shifty eye upon us. Pit us in two verse one fights too."

Well none of this sounded reassuring. "This is all feeling rather déjà vu." Lily muttered. Nothing like hacking at old wounds.

"Then wanna go watch?" Marlene issued suddenly, a little too eagerly to be out of the blue.

Lily's eyes widened. "Am I allowed to?" She was at a loss as to what to do all day while Sev was out. The idea of taking a long bath with a book crossed her mind, but every written work within this household already had her fingers through their pages. Maybe try her hand at gardening after unearthing a bundle of her mother's old flower seeds.

"Moody doesn't mind spectators. It'll be fun!" Marlene enticed, then procuring a pouch from within her robes. "I brought easy travel too."

"What's that?" Lily asked, eyes wide and curious when Marlene opened the satchel to show the sparkling green powder within.

"Floo powder," Marlene explained. "Good ol' wizarding travelling method when you want to cover long distances or in no state to concentrate. Will take you to anywhere connected to the Floo network."

"And that includes…?"

"Well, basically every public building. Most shops are connected by Floo during opening hours, and all wizarding villages and townships will have a town hall or village centre that caters as the area's public Floo point. Every household fireplace is connected one way to the Floo network unless pre-arranged with the Ministry, and even then, it's usually restricted access to only family and friends and other authorised travellers."

"Why hasn't anyone told me about this?" Lily lamented, throwing her hands up in the air. She could already see so many mornings she didn't have to wrack her brain with worry whether she could carry herself to work by Apparition as sleep deprived as she was. This was the investment her next pay pocket was going to.

With all other options to keep her lonesome weekend occupied paling in comparison, Lily eagerly agreed to this little adventure. Within minutes she was tumbling out a fireplace to appear within a neat hall lined with fireplaces, blinking in confusion as to where she had Flooed to. She was certain she had heard Marlene proclaim "Hogsmeade."

Just as she wondered, Marlene dropped down the chute of the neighbouring fireplace, covered head to toe in soot with a wide grin upon her face.

"Hogsmeade?" Lily asked, wiping her own face with a conjured handkerchief and finding it coming away covered.

"And then on to Hogwarts," Marlene proclaimed as she marched for the doors, absolutely nonplussed by her soot-covered appearance.

Lily drew level to her best friend's side. "Really? We're going back to Hogwarts?" That could absolutely be the crowning excitement to her day of excitement.

"Turns out the Room of Requirements made a pretty decent place to stage some hard-core training," Marlene quipped. "Always thought the place was pretty special. Moody thought it too when Jamie-boy suggested it as a good ol' secret training yard."

Lily hurried a step, spurred on by the prospect of visiting her school. She had thought she wouldn't ever see those old ivory towers again the day she sailed across the lake that last time. Marlene too was grinning, understanding completely where Lily's excitement was coming from.

"Now we just have to find a way to make a flashy entrance. Reckon you can conjure doves from your hands?" she asked, only half-jokingly.

Mildly confused, Lily asked, "Thought we were here for quiet spectating."

"Yeah but… we can cheer the boys on. Let them know we're here. Fireworks from your hands kind of thing."

Lily fixed her best friend with a glare. "Was this the ulterior motive of your visit this morning?"

"I didn't realise Slytherin paranoia was transmittable by marriage," said Marlene dismissively.

But Lily glared her down until the girl finally cracked and spilled the truth of the matter. "Alright, I'll admit it. I wanted you to come and take a look, maybe flex your magical muscles and impress the Aurors. Give you another shot coming in with us. I have no idea why you got rejected when all of us Flobberworms for brains got accepted."

Another thrill of hope flared, only to be quashed by that discomforting squirm of guilt. As galling as it was to be thought inadequate, she didn't want to tell Marlene the real reason for her rejection. A little glimmer of respect was finally settling between her two best friends, and she didn't need the truth sullying this growth.

Then suddenly, going to spectate felt like a bad idea. Lily sometimes thought that she had a self-destructive tendency in her choice of best friends. And it was harder still to believe otherwise when she found herself barely putting up a fight all the way up to the secret room on floor seven.

* * *

Drenched in sweat from build-up exercises and senses abuzz with adrenaline, Snape stood in the middle of a large open swathe of marble floor, lined like a ring surrounded by stone pillars. He stood poised against Potter and Black; only half of the infernal Marauders, but the odds favoured him regardless. It had been gratifying to flex his power against them, as limited a setting that it was. Every bruise and burn, every yelp he elicited from these hated souls granted him vicious satisfaction.

Though Snape had but briefly tasted the horrors of the battlefield, there he was in his element far more than either uninitiated whelp. With twice the bravado between them and half the practice or experience.

It hadn't taken long for that Auror Bones to realise Snape was further along in his training than any of the others and it took Moody half that time. His physical capabilities were lower than the Gryffindors, but when it came down to practical spell work, he could cast circles about any number of them in any combat scenario.

It came to the point where Moody wouldn't pit anyone against him in a duel unless paired up with another, and even then, Snape had found no challenge among his peers. The fact he was not only able but encouraged to bring his wand so frequently against Potter and Black, was simply the sadistic icing on the metaphorical cake.

And a pleasure it was again today, Snape sneered as he flicked away an offending spell. Black hadn't even bothered trying to flank, the impatient boy. The two Marauders always stood shoulder to shoulder, completely nullifying the greatest advantage they had fighting as a team, and one that Snape was fully willing to take advantage of.

He flung back his own spell, weak, slow, diffusive, more a probing jab than a real attack. Black deflected it with a flourish and a triumphant grin, only to have his smile wiped straight off his face by the quick knockback shockwave that followed.

Potter reacted fast enough to leap out of the way, and even deflected the stunner Snape sent after him. That vile boy was improving far faster than any of his compatriots and was the closest to holding his own against the veteran.

Close, but not quite.

Snape deflected a Knock Back Jinx Potter had sent his way, but with a flick of his wrist he sent it to the half-prone Black, knocking him flat again. Potter's eyes flickered away at the sound of Black's yelp, providing the brief window that Snape needed, and he didn't need to be asked twice to take advantage.

"Potter!" Moody barked from the sidelines as the boy tumbled into a pillar. Even with two good eyes and far fewer scars, the man was an intimidating sight, perhaps more so knowing that he was well in his prime. "Focus on your own fight. If this were a real combat situation, your concern for your friend's missteps would have cost the both of you your lives!"

James stood with a grimace. "But he attacked Sirius when he was down!"

"That's damned dirty!" Black hissed as he pulled himself up, limping.

"I know. I was watching," Moody grunted, stepping into the ring and strolling about to the two floored boys to assess them briefly with a wave of his wand. "You think Death Eaters would think twice about hexing your fallen fellow? You think they'd fight clean?"

"Well he's not a Death Eater. He should have some common decency," Potter muttered, completely missing the point.

Moody muttered under his breath as he set both boys to their feet. "Don't cluster up like a pack of Mooncalves this time and see if you can last a little bit longer against him."

They took the Auror's advice to heart it seemed, as they fanned out, forcing Snape to watch one and keep the second on his peripheral. But he'd fought them both such numerous times already that he knew the impatient Black would always be the first to attack.

 _Predictable._ Snape thought as he deflected the hex that streaked his way, turning to Potter just as he flung two stunners. _Sloppy._ Snape barely needed to deflect one as the second sailed past his shoulder. Then in the same motion, he brought his wand about his back to fling a quick Body-Binder curse at the approaching Black. The boy had thought to use his distraction to catch him unawares, positioning himself in readiness to strike. But his dreams of a cunning manoeuvre were forfeited by his ally's weak spellcasting, and his own single-minded bullheadedness.

Black skidded to a stop by a pillar, cursing as he thrashed about, trying to free himself by physical might as his wand flew clear at his fall. Potter's focus was unwavering this time, peppering Snape with an assault of stunners that were as quick as they were wild.

Snape conjured a stone block before him, physically blocking the barrage, then sent that stone slab flying forward towards his opponent.

Potter was always a fair hand at Transfigurations. The boy crushed the offending projectile without any issue, turning with another curse upon his wand tip. Only his opponent no longer stood before him.

A Disillusion Charm was exceedingly effective in the midst of chaos, especially if you were allowed to enter into the illusion without notice. Snape knew this to be one of the only war-time scenarios that charm could be used effectively in a society where a person's presence was a mere incantation's away from reveal.

After which, it wasn't even a challenge to bring Potter low. The boy was staring blankly in the exact opposite direction from where the Jinx came from, but that didn't stop Snape from sending the boy bodily through the pillars. It was his fortune that Moody took pity on him and conjured a great pile of cushions to catch him.

"Watch where you're falling. You're no use to us with a broken neck," the gruff Auror barked, sweeping the battered boy to his feet with a wave of his wand. He then promptly turned to Black, who was wiggling slowly towards his wand. With a quick incantation, the Auror freed the foul boy. "And you don't seem to be improving in the least. What had I said about being on guard? Constant vigilance!"

Black grabbed his wand and scrambled to his feet, cursing under his breath as he did so. But as he stepped towards the ring, Moody blocked his path. "Oh no boy. You need some special training. There's no point in pitting you against the young Defence Professor if you don't even know when to block."

"I know how to block."

"Are you deaf as well, boy? I said when."

While all this was going on, Snape had a moment to catch his breath. His new robes hung comfortably upon his sweaty frame, but even a well-tailored garment did little to ease this combination of heat and exhaustion. Ordinarily, duelling at this level was a simple matter, but with the compounding of physical exercise and spellcasting drills, as well as multiple duelling sessions of similarly stacked odds, Snape felt it in his muscles and lungs.

"Where'd you learn to duel like that?" Potter asked as he limped over with a wince. Snape could not help but notice that despite the beating the boy took, he hadn't seemed the least bit winded.

Snape scowled and turned away. Just because he had to train with these imbeciles didn't mean he was obliged to be civil with them. How galling this whole affair was, having to stand shoulder to shoulder with the likes of these children, still wet behind the ears, running drills alongside them and performing the same rudimentary tasks that didn't ever seem to stick to their primitive learning capabilities.

At the very least, Moody seemed to notice Snape's abilities, often singling him out to lead an exercise or having him perform more advanced manoeuvres while his fellow recruits trailed behind. But that regard came with its own bag of mixed blessings, as Snape's own physical capabilities trailed behind the Gryffindors' quite noticeably. He often found himself dedicated to punishing physical exercise while the rest of his cohort performed less physically demanding but more disciplinary oriented drills.

"You could be a fine Auror, boy, if you could just give me two dozen extra press ups," Bones had once growled to him in passing after a pathetic attempt at that exercise. Most wizards scorned the necessity physical excercise, Snape being one of them. But having been trained once before for war, he knew strengthening one's core and back could be the critical difference in one's ability to recover from a blow mid-battle.

So here too did this disparity show, with Snape left exhausted by this brief but concurrent trade of blows, and Potter bouncing back from his flooring as if it were part of his daily routine. He even had the energy to practice on the spellcasting targets while Moody personally put Black through defensive drills. In contrast, it was all Snape could do to pull through recovery.

It was only then that he realised that their private training session was no longer private. That McKinnon girl appeared at her boyfriend's side, seeming intent on disrupting a training session she was not a part of. But worst of all, it seemed his exhaustion had dulled his senses to such a state that Snape hadn't even noticed his own wife watching from the side lines.

She flashed a quick smile from the bench on which she sat, covered head to toe in a fine film of soot. No doubt she had come by Floo, which was not a substance they kept at the house, so her presence was the result of someone else's involvement. _Three guesses as to who_ , Snape thought cynically, glancing over his shoulder at Potter's girlfriend, brows pinched with annoyance.

"Mr Moody said I could watch, after he swept me for enchantments and ensured that I wasn't an Inferius masquerading as a human," Lily asserted without prompting, no doubt realising the sketchiness of her own presence.

"Unusually lenient for a paranoid soul like him. I need to have a talk to that man about the meaning of _secret_ society," Snape muttered, displeased how easy an access Lily was given despite being officially excluded by Dumbledore himself. He needed her as far away from this dreaded conflict as possible and finding her mingling with men and women who were destined for early graves was tying knots of anxiety within Snape's gullet.

"It was all Marlene's idea. I will totally dob her in on this one," Lily said quite solemnly, while shifting on the bench and motioning for Snape to sit. "But if truth be told, I wanted to see you on your toes. They weren't kidding. You can move."

That little bubble of self-satisfied pride was no doubt the work of his hormones again. As Snape sat beside her, his scowl gave way to a sigh. All it took was a compliment from the woman he loved to rattle him. His teen years could not end soon enough.

"Lily…" Snape began, the tone of his voice leaching the colour from Lily's smile. "I don't want you involved in this. Please. This is not a game."

She turned away, wearing dejection plain across her feature. "I just wanted to watch…"

"Then watch, but only this once. Tomorrow I want you to forget about all this. Forget about the war, and just live your life."

"Snape! You've had your breather!" From across the room Moody bellowed, causing the young man to near jump out of his skin. "Get back in here and show this flattened Puffskein how it is to actually block!" to which Black scowled darkly from the pillar against which he sprawled. Felled by another Binding curse.

Lily grinned and nudged him onwards, utterly heedless to his discontent. "We will finish this conversation later," Snape warned as he stood to leave and do as that dratted Auror bade, always noticing those blue eyes regarded him with that touch of attention that caused his caution to rear.

* * *

Lily never thought she'd be able to have another meal in the Great Hall again. It was funny where life took her. Dining across the table with her best friend and half the Marauders, under the cloud-touched sky inscribed upon the enchanted ceiling. Severus didn't join them, having been put to another round of painful-looking exercises that was no doubt intended to build up his physique. Moody had shuffled off before the rest of them packed up to go to lunch, but Sev had stubbornly stayed to complete his sets. Lily didn't doubt he wouldn't come down until he finished the task he was given, no matter how long it took him.

He still hadn't come down by the time the food was served. Fare of wonderful variety was on offer upon the table, all clustered to where they sat. Roast beef, creamy chicken soup, mash, peas, fresh crusty bread, various colourful cuts of roasted vegetables and several varieties of pies that Lily was exploring with relish. Now that she had a taste of life fending for herself, the simple pleasures of being offered variety without the effort of procurement was utterly heavenly.

But her good mood was being slowly worn down by the sour mood of the two Marauders sitting at the table. It seemed suffering a whole morning of getting absolutely licked by their once-rival took its toll on their pride.

"Your husband's an absolute rot," Black growled into his mash and beef, not even trying to contain his displeasure.

Lily, however, couldn't care less what that impetuous boy thought. "I'm so glad you thought so," she chirped as she sipped her soup, washing down the pie crust, and enjoying the dark glower her flippancy elicited.

"What business does he have being so haughty?" Black continued, spraying crumbs across the table as he ranted. "I don't remember him being anything other than a wimp, then bam, he's able to duel like he's got something to prove! I remember we used to absolutely flatten him."

"It was four against one, though," James muttered, dipping behind his goblet to hide his grimace. At the very least he felt contrite about his actions, no matter how blasé his best friend acted.

"Four? Hardly. As if Remus ever lifted a finger, and Peter's about as useful as a pixie's fart."

Lily felt her fair mood falter. "You speak of such awful things with such pride," she muttered scathingly.

Black didn't even have the decency to look rebuked. "Yeah well, we stopped, didn't we? And it seemed in that time old Snivelly found some way to get ahead of us by leaps and bounds. And the guy's still spindly as a Bowtruckle. Its dark magic I tell you."

"Or he's talented," James stated evenly. "It's not the first time he's shown ability above the bell curve."

"Yeah but duelling?" Marlene interjected, her bite of pie half-chewed when she swallowed, her nose still sporting a dark smudge or two from the fireplace soot that was missed when washing up for lunch. "Practice makes a duellist. Training makes a duellist. I'll bet he's got training on the side. Maybe from his Death Eater friends-"

"That's quite enough!" Lily barked, her appetite turning with the conversation. "He's not one of those fiends! How many times does Severus have to prove himself?"

Marlene, at least, had the decency to look chastised. "Wasn't accusing him. Just wondering… maybe before his whole turn around and all."

Lily had quite enough. She pushed her plate aside even though she hadn't yet touched the dessert. "Right. I can see this conversation isn't going to end pleasantly."

"Aww c'mon, Lil's. We don't mean nothing by it. We're just joshing around," went Marlene's attempt at placating.

"Maybe _you_ were," Black muttered.

James hurriedly interjected, "But we know he's on our side."

"For now," Black added, so casual with his acid thoughts.

"Well then I think I'll leave you three to figure out your stance on the mystery of Sev. Meanwhile, I think I'll go finish my lunch with him." Lily stood from her seat quite dramatically and marched from the halls, only realising belatedly that not only did she forget to bring a plate for Sev, but she had left her own meal behind too. Well it was too late to go back now; she'd ruin the effect.

She jogged up the Entrance Hall steps, a little unnerved by the silence of the school. Daylight hours should never be this quiet, not even during the holiday weeks. She slowed a step within the Grand Staircase, simply taking in the atmosphere of the school without the sound of children's voices. There were creaks of doors, moans and ghostly whispers, squeaks of joints, the grand rasping of a staircase that was shifting positions. But it all seemed so empty, so lifeless, without the voices and laughter of children. What was the point of the wondrous if there was no one to take in the wonder?

Lily found herself ponderously philosophical, so much so she almost didn't notice the gruff Auror standing at the entrance to the second-floor flight of the stairwell. And when she did, she almost jumped out of her skin.

"Mr Moody," Lily gasped, settling her racing heart. "I almost didn't see you there."

"Vigilance, girl. It will keep you alive," the man growled, then beckoned with a wave of his hand. "Come on. I need you for something."

He stepped into the corridor, his steps echoing away without waiting to see if she followed. After a moment, she did, spurred on by curiosity. "What for?" she called out but received no answer as the Auror swept forth quickly, stopping only when he reached the door of the Defence Against the Dark Arts Office.

"Inside," the Auror barked. Holding the door open and prompting with a twist of his head.

Confusion compounded upon Lily's curiosity as she entered, realising just as she did that this was to be Severus' office. Already signs of redecoration were there, because she was certain Professor Motley did not order those heavy, light-swallowing, pitch black curtains.

Moody seemed right at home, sitting himself behind the desk, and no doubt that chair that slid forward and into the back of Lily's knees was his way of asking her to sit as well. "Lily Snape. Married to our golden boy there."

"Yes?" Lily answered, despite not being asked a question as so much as given a statement.

The grizzled Auror leaned forward, glaring at her with those electric blue eyes. Weathered and gruff, lean and tough as a sinew, Lily wondered if the man intended to be intimidating. "Just graduated too, makes you seventeen, eighteen?"

"Eighteen," Lily answered.

The man's face did not put forth an expression Lily could discern. "So, eighteen. Eighteen and married. You a rash girl, Lily?"

"I'm a Gryffindor, so…"

The corners of the man's lips turned upwards, showing his white teeth as if he might have found her jest amusing, but that did nothing but increase his intimidation. He continued, seeming oblivious to the girl's growing worry. "Married at eighteen. How long have you known your husband then?"

"We met when we were nine so… I've known him as long as I haven't known him," Lily answered, a little surprised by that realisation. How time flies.

"Before Hogwarts then. Ah," Moody mused, as if this fact were of vital importance. "And in these _nine_ years, has Mr Snape ever shown proclivity for dark ideals?"

Lily's blood ran cold. "Excuse me?"

"I know the boy is from Slytherin, and You-Know-Who has had a good handful of influence in there. I'm asking if he had ever collaborated with those of his House that are known sympathisers."

Her mouth felt parched. She knew what he was asking and knew what the truth of it would sound like. Sev had flown close to the sun, but before his wings could melt, he had turned back. It wasn't who he was now.

"He hadn't," Lily felt herself say. "He's a good man. He wouldn't ever-"

"Really? Never?" the fascination in the Auror's voice sounded quite sarcastic. "Because I hear mutters of discontent from your fellow graduates. Grumbled accusations of dark magic. Little suggestive throw outs that the boy might have had… Death Eater sympathies."

"No. No he-"

"He would prefer you ask him directly," Sev's voice sounded, causing Lily to jump, whereas Moody merely smiled that half-committed smile.

Another chair appeared beside Lily, sliding forth from the aether. Severus stalked in, drenched with sweat, yet so dignified as he sat, without any prompt. His black eyes meeting hers briefly before settling upon the interrogator behind his desk, meeting those blue eyes without so much as a flinch.

"Certainly took your time to come down. I was beginning to think you might have passed out mid-sprint," Moody grunted, pulling straight into the back of his chair. A motion that might have looked relaxed, had it not been for the tense squared shoulders and the wand that never left his grasp.

"And yet I cannot help but feel I did not take as long as you might have hoped," Severus said softly, a voice that evoked images of a cat on the prowl. "Searching my office would take some time. As would separating my wife from her horde of Gryffindor friends."

Moody grinned his grimacing smile. "An empty office takes little to no time to search. I notice you have not yet moved in." He then turned his electric blue eyes to the girl he had been interrogating. "I had planned on speaking to your wife, but this was not the opportunity I had planned for. No. This was just a happy accident, meeting her at the stairwell when I did."

A shadow of a smile crept along Severus' thin lips. "Foiled by your own impatience then. For I won't allow you another opportunity to speak to her alone."

"Then speaking to the both of you together is perfectly dandy," Moody barked, wiping the satisfaction from Sev's expression. As if the young man just realised this was a less favourable situation than he had originally planned for.

"Ask me what you wish, but there is no need for my wife to be here," Severus urged in an even tone, but to no avail.

The door clicked behind them, no doubt warded by the Auror for the conversation to come. "So tell me, Snape. What is your stance on the Death Eater movement? Your wife seems to think you utterly innocent of association."

Those dark eyes flickered briefly to Lily's, so brief she could not quite fathom the weight they held. "I cannot claim complete innocence in that department… every Slytherin had their brushes with that movement."

He confessed so readily that it made Lily feel a real goose for tying herself in knots lying over that issue. Of course he'd had a brush with the Death Eater movement. It was synonymous with being a Slytherin.

"Funny. Your wife had claimed no such knowledge," Those blue eyes met with hers again. "And yet she doesn't seem even the slightest bit surprised by this revelation."

Lily couldn't help but squirm under that steady stare. "I must have… misunderstood the question," she mumbled lamely.

"I don't doubt she believed your inquiries meant more present concerns. It was no secret that I had... my brushes with the darkness. Associates I've made for no better option within my corner of the school. Nothing too serious. That is all behind me now."

"Nothing serious, was it?" Moody's gruff voice questioned as his blue eyes fixed upon Severus again. "And exactly how far did this _not serious_ association go? How close to their storm's eye did you get?"

"Not far," Sev answered.

Those blue eyes did not falter, staring him down as if by the force of his will alone he could break the boy before him. And had it been Lily, it might have worked, for she could not help but shake where she sat. Nothing terrible had been issued, no threats had been uttered, yet the atmosphere could not press heavier upon her heart. This was an interrogation, and just the knowledge of sitting in the recipient's seat chilled her to her very core.

It seemed Lily's fear did not go unnoticed. Moody's attention turned on her. "And what of you? Anything to add?"

"N-no. No sir." She shook her head furiously.

"Lily is a muggle born and cannot possibly be associated with You-Know-Who," Severus answered evenly.

"Exactly," Lily added, unhelpfully.

Moody's electric blue eyes lifted from her again. "Muggle born? Not a bad choice to tie the knot with a muggle born if you wish to sway suspicion." Lily almost gasped with affront at such a suggestion.

But Severus all but ignored the implications. "Albus Dumbledore trusts me," he insisted.

"And not her." Those electric blue eyes flickered to Lily briefly, before locking back with Sev's. "I've seen a few turned away from the Order, but none with as little given reasons as she."

"That is entirely because of me. I requested that she be excluded," Severus supplied without even a moment's abashment.

"And who are you to wield your influence so?" Moody asked, his stare unfaltering. "Just a new recruit that Albus personally brought in? That so happens to bewitch him to agree to wield his power of veto? One that could already duel on par with any non-Auror duellist within the Order? Wielding spells, techniques and strategies I've faced all too often before. You have the smell of a Death Eater about you."

Silence met his accusing words, the heavy atmosphere pressing down around Lily's ears. Her own eyes, turned to Severus, for he had no quick answer to give. No outward expression betrayed him, his face blank as his black eyes glared, as no denial passed his thin lips.

Why didn't he defend himself?

"He's not a Death Eater!" Lily found herself uttering into the suffocating silence. "He's not!"

"I'm not," Severus finally agreed, his voice low pitched. "And if you have any more to say on the matter, I suggest you take it up with Dumbledore."

He made to stand, but within a split second found himself drawn wand to wand against the Auror. Moody had moved so suddenly, his motion so quick, that Lily hadn't realised what was happening until both men stood poised at wand-point.

"Sit down boy. Sit down until I say you can go," the Auror growled, and despite having an equal draw in that exchange, Severus backed down as bade.

This whole exchange was terribly frightening. It occurred to Lily suddenly that the man might not be entirely stable. That the moniker "Mad-Eye" might not simply be referring to his rapidly shifting electric blue eyes.

But those were not the only eyes to pique her concern. Black eyes glanced her way. It seemed despite everything to be worried about, Severus' main concern was her presence. His lips curled downwards, brows pinched in more than just annoyance or concern. "I have no allegiance to the Death Eater movement. I do not know what more to tell you," Sev muttered.

"Then tell me who taught you to duel?" Moody barked, so unreasonable with his pursuit.

Silence fell again, with Sev sitting frozen in his seat. Teeth bared, his brows furrowed in such dissent that Lily was certain he would not speak before the Auror would lose again his temper. But then Sev, through grit teeth, answered, "They trained me."

It was uttered so quietly, Lily had thought she had initially misheard. Except Severus' face was awash with shame.

Moody's blue eyes held his. "They trained you?" the man repeated, as if tasting the words upon his tongue.

"They had," Severus confirmed again, washing away any doubt over mishearing him the first time. "I was extended that offer… during my fifth year at Hogwarts. I was given training over the course of the extended holiday in summer… after that, I realised they were not for me."

What was he saying? Was this… was this that summer? The summer they weren't talking? Did he really go so far?

"I can see this is the first your wife heard of this," Moody stated gruffly, his blue eyes flickered swiftly to her before away again.

Severus wouldn't even look at her, his black eyes stared straight ahead, and slowly lowered as he spoke. "I left training without a word to anybody and simply never reported back. I was too-low of status to really matter. Beneath their notice. I brought all I knew to Dumbledore when I could-" A memory tickled at Lily's mind, of a Severus desperately trying to access the headmaster's office. "-and he has had me in his service since."

"So Albus would know of all this. If I were to ask?"

"He will tell you as much," Severus muttered, his tone muted. "And as little as he's willing to share."

"That, I can attest as true," Moody grumbled, his eyes still narrowed as he fixed his glare to Severus.

Without another word, the Auror flicked his wand, allowing the office door to swing open, then nodded to Lily. She didn't need to be told twice. She stood to leave as quickly as she could, glancing back to see if Sev had followed. But he sat there still, not even looking back to meet her eyes.

But only relief came at that silence, for she did not know what to say. She quickly left, allowing the door to close behind her, and leaving her husband to speak to this Auror alone. Her head was too full, her thoughts were too muddled. So many questions she did not know how to even begin to ask, and so many answers she dreaded to hear.

* * *

A/N: Moody is incredibly fun to write. I like to think of him as a gruffer, more aggressive but less egomaniacal version of Sherlock. And perhaps equally sociable.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and cookeroach for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 23rd March 2019 AEDT.

 **Chapter 56: Terrors of the Mind**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	56. Terrors of the Mind

**Chapter 56: Terrors of the Mind**

The summer humidity clung to Lily's skin; not even the night could cut through the cloying heat. Every cooling charm she cast had been chased out within minutes by this overbearing swelter and opening the window a crack only served to grant entry to the insects intent on eating her alive. It was a shame that the wards that turned away unwelcome guests did not consider mosquitoes and moths to be of the same unsavoury category.

But tonight, it was not the heat that kept her awake. It was the absence of Severus at her side, for he did not come up to bed. They hadn't exchanged a word since she left that office earlier that afternoon and returned home to Godric's Hollow alone. After giving the Wolfsbane its nightly attention and answering the flustered owl from Marlene who had noticed her absence, Lily had retired for the night.

Severus hadn't returned when she went up to bed, early for her standards, but not for his. The sun had long bedded for the night when Lily thought to worry. Sleeplessness was not one of her banes but tonight it was making an exception for her.

In a bout of frustration, Lily waved her arms about her head, chasing away the keening buzz of a tenacious blood sucker. There were magical sources of bug repellents, there had to be. She couldn't imagine that being left unmolested by insects during warm Hogwarts nights was all down to coincidence. Perhaps she would ask Severus when he returned. Perhaps that little exercise would be all that's needed to put today behind them.

Perhaps she need not mention it at all.

Severus lies. He could lie circles around an Auror with a straight face. And though Lily liked to think she could see through him as clear as glass, there were moments where she knew better. When he deflected suspicion from her own lie earlier this day, it was done with such deft she had thought he misunderstood her protests.

Perhaps he did, but she couldn't tell. Just as she hoped that was the case with his final admission.

" _They trained me."_

Trained by Death Eaters. Those words had left his lips, a concession perhaps, to the interrogation they were under. An admission to sate the Auror's insistence. Because how could he have possibly fallen that far? He loved her, didn't he? He always had. He said as much. How could he have then possibly walked willingly into the open arms of those who would have him raise his wand against her?

With a sigh, Lily turned in her bed, invading the half that was meant to be Sev's, finding relief in the coolness of sheets that had not yet been laid in. The heat was making it difficult to sleep, but that was not all it took to keep her from slumber.

With a final toss of her sheets, Lily rose from the bed, kicking her feet into slippers and ignoring the bathrobes that hung off the corner of her tall mirror. This was an evening where her breezy nightgown was enough for modesty and comfort.

She didn't know what her purpose had been when she set off to wander the halls. Perhaps in the back of her mind she had thought to find Sev hiding in one of the corners. Perhaps her subconscious knew more than she had given it credit for.

Downstairs in the living room, Lily found Severus sprawled upon the sofa, still dressed in his day robes and lying stock still in the darkened room, too still to really be asleep.

"Are you awake?" Lily asked into the darkness. He did not move, he did not respond, but still too still.

"If you're awake, I really want to know the spell to repel mosquitoes." He may have shifted then. The darkness made it difficult to discern motion, but she thought she might have seen him shift, perhaps even a smile, though that was as likely imagined.

Lily's steps fell soft, just in case he really had been in slumber, but Sev sat up at her approach. "Ah so you are awake," Lily observed, smiling uselessly into the all-encompassing dark. Her heart began to patter, fast and flustered.

She sat down beside him on the newly vacated portion of the couch, noting the cool touch of the cushion. He was wearing his Cooling Charm again, warding off the sweltering night with his usual efficient solution. Somehow, his casting of that spell never gave out before he willed it to, something Lily had yet to master in her own pursuit of temperate relief.

With a deep breath that seemed to resound throughout the quiet darkness, Lily steeled herself, as did Severus. "I suppose… we should talk about today."

He shifted in his seat but did not turn to her. It was too dark to see his expression clearly, but her imagination filled in the rest, painting his unseen face with the dread she felt in her heart.

Another deep breath punctured the silence, as Lily delivered the question that plagued her. "What you said today… what you said to the Auror. Was it true?"

A silence answered, no denial delivered. A pause that confirmed her fears before those words left his lips. "It was true…"

Cold dread touched her heart as she stared blankly into the darkness. Her heart straining against her ribcage so loudly she was certain Severus could hear it too from the other side of the couch. She shook her head slowly, unable to comprehend this confession. This was Severus, her Severus. To have turned to the Death Eaters… so soon after they fell out… how could he?

"Why? Did you hate me that much?" she whispered into the dark.

He finally moved, turned to face her. His expression inscrutable, his eyes all but lost in the suffocating shadows. "It wasn't about you."

"Wasn't it?" Lily urged, unable to comprehend, and desperately trying. "Then why? Why join those that would see people like me persecuted?"

"A mistake," he hissed, his uneven white teeth visible through the shadows, clenched as if the answer pained him. "I wanted power, wealth, everything I didn't have. What else do I reach for when you were no longer there?"

An icy chill threaded through her heart as sweat broke out upon her brows. "It was my fault?"

"No." Severus shook his head, a slow deliberate motion. "The weakness was mine. It was not your place to save me from my own stupidity." His white teeth bared again, he turned away, seeming to shrink into a slouch. "And I was so painfully stupid then. I had actually thought… that this path would somehow impress you. To win you back through power and wealth…"

"Then I agree. You were quite stupid," Lily quipped lightly, far lighter than she had felt. Her thoughts weighed like stones upon her soul, as she tried to fathom this confession. To have known how far her own abandonment had sent him, the man she now loved. "But if I hadn't left you-"

"Then I would have dragged you to the pits of my depravity." Severus' voice lanced out, harsh and raw. "I was beyond reason then. You could not have done anything to help me. All that you would have accomplished was to find yourself hurt beyond measure."

"And yet, you freed yourself. All on your own," Lily murmured into the darkness.

Severus straightened from his hunch, seeming to centre himself with her words. "Not without cost. Not without being at my worst." He turned, and even in the all-encompassing darkness she could feel his black eyes pierce her soul. "And I can only be grateful that you were not there to see it."

A knot was at Lily's throat, emotions she could not even begin to grasp, let alone unpack. The sharp bite of disappointment, and a reeling heartache. And a deep sorrowful sadness felt on his behalf. She didn't know why she felt it so, but she could not help but think the cost he spoke of was deeper and more grievous than any scar he wore upon his form.

"What happened?" she whispered into the darkness.

Withdrawing back in on himself, he did not answer. With a shaking voice, Lily urged again. "Please, Severus. Tell me what happened." But still he stayed silent. Turning away, eyes cast staring into the darkness.

Lily did not know what to do, her heart twisted as it pattered. So terrified of the thoughts that clawed from her mind. Severus had changed, so suddenly, and so unexplainably, but now she was handed one piece of that puzzle, questions she never asked were beginning to be answered. Questions she should have asked.

But she had been so happy… so happy to have had her best friend back again. Too happy to ask hard questions as to what happened, and how he had changed so drastically. Simply too happy to wallow in ignorance, and reap the benefit of his kinder soul. Never once had she asked after the unexplainable sorrow that now held him in its grasp.

"This scares me. I can't… I can't begin to imagine…" Lily whispered into the night, feeling her voice swallowed by the darkness that seemed to press down upon her. "I once promised you that I wouldn't regret marrying you. I want to keep that promise, Severus. So please. Tell me."

Slowly, he turned to her. Those piercing black eyes that were lost to the darkness, she could feel upon her. The silence stretched a moment more, until she thought she had to urge again, but then he finally spoke.

"I was shown a vision… One to test my loyalty…" he all but whispered into the dark. His shoulders slumped again, his fingers curled upon his knees, worrying the fabric of his robes.

Lily moved to his side, sidling up against him and taking his chilled hand into her own. She could smell a faint musk of sour and bitterness about him, as if he had not yet bathed away the day's exertions from his form. He must have been quite lost in thought for she had never known him to be lax in the discipline of hygiene.

He turned to her, a small motion, almost lost in the shadows. His voice caught, raw and husky. "I saw you die." A chill lanced through her. "I saw you struck down. Dead by my foolish actions."

"Your nightmares…" It suddenly all made a terrible sense to Lily. Those terrors of the night that gripped him. He had only spoken of it once before, but she has since seen its incarnations numerous times. Though his restless sleep rarely disturbed her since cohabitation, she had once woken to his throws of nightmares, but he had calmed quickly with a touch and some softly spoken words. Later he had refused to speak of his foul dreams, claiming ignorance over the whole ordeal.

She didn't doubt now, it was those same dreams. Those same terrible nightmares that haunted him from that Halloween eve that she found him, and likely long before too.

Nightmares invoked by visions forced upon him…

Lily brought her arms about him, pulling him close, feeling the chilled skin of his neck against her cheek. "Those are just illusions, Sev. You didn't kill me. I'm alive."

He brought his arms about her, curling down into the dip of her shoulder, holding her tight against him. Through his ribs pressed against her own, she felt his sobs before she heard his breath hitch. "It was all my fault. My fault that you died."

"It's not real." Lily urged, alarmed at how tightly he grasped, how adamant his laments were. "I'm alive. Those are just nightmares! Nothing more!"

But were they?

Lily's own breath hitched as a dark thought came to her. A memory of a topic learned in a class only half-remembered. A sub-note on a lecture of the Mind Arts, of how memories were not just to be gleaned to one able to touch them, but to be altered. False memories could be given to another, moments imagined that they would be convinced to be true.

The realisation rang clear as a tendril of fear coiled about her. There had been whispers of that Dark Wizard's power, stories of his prodigious ability and terrible cruelty. A young man's mangled mind would not be so far a cry from the dark deeds to his unspoken name.

Lily felt warmth seep through the shoulder of her nightgown. Severus' tears were still warm, it seemed, despite the charm he wrapped about him. Kindred tears spilled forth from her own eyes, the clarity brought with it horror she could convey in no other way.

Her hot tears burned a trail down her cheeks, seeping into the thick fabric of those black robes. "I'm alive, Severus," she warbled, burying her face into his robes, locking into mutual sought comfort. "Don't you ever forget that. I'm alive."

His breathing calmed, but she did not release him, nor did he make any attempts to free himself from her grasp. She felt his breath against her collarbone, tickling the hair about her neck. With a sigh of her own, she leaned into him, her eyes closing as exhaustion chased the worries from her mind.

* * *

Gardening was not one of Lily's usual hobbies, yet that was the activity Lily had elected to sink the rest of her weekend into, and that in itself was worthy of concern.

Snape glanced out the kitchen window, sipping his cup of coffee as he watched his wife weed out a small patch of earth in the corner of the neatly manicured yard. The knee-length grass that had once claimed dominion of that territory now sat primed and proper, tamed by the magic of the House Elves whose specialised abilities brought the House to liveable standards.

But this yard was usually left unmolested for weeks, only subject to the mandatory trim to keep it from returning to its feral roots. A task that Snape elected to undertake as his own to no protest from his wife.

But now she stooped in the corner, digging about in the dirt as a muggle would, not even reaching for her graduate arsenal of Herbology spells.

An activity to settle her mind, perhaps. Snape understood the feeling. It was why he sometimes cooked without magic. There was something cathartic about using one's hands.

They had exchanged few words since the night before, since he had told her that lie that was modelled too close to the truth. It was a foolish hope to think that she might take his confession in stride, to accept his mistakes as she once had, an erased memory ago.

But that had been confessions far closer to the knuckle, one ill-made decision of youth that resulted in a lifetime of suffering and repentance. By comparison, his half-honest confession was but a skin-deep glance of the issue. His worse decision glancing off him with barely a repercussion, and repentance of a brief and shallow nature.

His situation wasn't as sympathetic as the truth had been. And though Snape reviled pity, in quite a few ways this uncertainty was worse.

Snape drained his coffee with a shallow draw from his cup and set it to scrub itself out in the sink. He cast his eyes out into the summer-scorched yard and briefly wondered if his appearance would be welcomed, now after he had freshly showered, if accompanied by refreshments.

But that defied the purpose she had escaped into the garden for. No matter how he might desire her companionship, she needed some time to herself. Especially after learning what she did and having her oddly innocent preconceptions of him rattled.

With a soft scowl to himself, he turned away to the dimmed contrast of the quiet expansive household. Loneliness was one of the reasons he never upgraded his private accommodations the first time around. Through his soliciting within pureblood circles, Snape had the twisted privilege of learning this early in his previous life. There was comfort in familiarity, and conservative space eased his notice of the void in his life.

But solitude had been his honest companion, and his most familiar comfort of all. And it terrified him that a quiet afternoon alone did not seem as appealing as it once had.

What a mark upon his life that Lily had made.

And what a void if he were to lose her.

The decisions he had made was to ensure no chance of crossing the same paths, or painting that same prophecy. As unreasonable as he had been to deny her rightful fellowship in the Order, he could think of no better way to ensure she would never stand before the Dark Lord. To never have the opportunity to defy him, never mind twice.

That worry gnawed at his thought, a fear that had followed him since taking on his role within this hideous war. Now his fears were not just of losing her to the merciless grasp of death, but to the follies of another lifetime.

Lies that lingered too close to the truth, and too far from his moments of merit. Forgiveness was a commodity and its currency was repentance. And even to him his lie sounded a shallow comparison to how truly repentant he was.

Snape could not repress the scowl that bubbled up with that thought, even as he descended the steps that led to the basement. A cellar that had once been designed with an obvious purpose in mind. Into its stone foundations was carved shelving; cool stores already prepared and swept of the century old product that had been left to fester. Along the top of the stone walls, ventilation holes were knocked through and waterproofed with enchantments. A heavy stone bench was laid in the centre, with a hole cut through its far corner that fed into an area where a bucket could be placed, a clever design for ease of waste disposal. A stone basin sat in the corner beneath a mouth of a pump that acted like a faucet fashioned in another century. And wedged in the corner was a runic table, painting an obvious picture as to which member of the Dumbledores had designed this room.

A brilliant potion master in his own right and an alchemist of tremendous standing, Albus Dumbledore in all likely had fashioned this cellar into his sanctum. Now, half a century later, Snape had claimed it as his own. His last familiar bastion in an increasingly unfamiliar life. There was so much he had to lose now, and should he ever pause to think on it…

Shrugging off the suffocating meanderings of his mind, Snape ran his hands under the icy water pumped from the ancient faucet. It had taken a lot of effort on his part to restore the enchanted duct, for nobody had laid any protective enchantment on the piping for rust and it took many an hour of magical scouring to be rid of the red flakes that threatened to taint each brew.

It certainly made his monthly brew more difficult than it had to be. He had floated great vats of water down from upstairs simply because he could not trust the rust-spoiled water for such a fickle brew.

At the very least that Wolfsbane remained only time-intensive as Potter had the common decency of using his wealth to front the overhead costs of this brew. Snape would have been in favour of charging him for this service too on top of the ingredients, but after bringing that up with Lily she immediately struck down that notion. A gift was a gift, she had said, and friends shouldn't take money from friends for help they were able to render. Still, Snape didn't feel there were any point in reminding Lily that the term friend did not encompass him and any of the Marauders.

And perhaps that responsibility too would no longer be his to bear, if Lupin was to be set on the same route as had another lifetime ago. Another spy dispatched into the conflict, but one hidden amongst the teeming ranks of those unfit to learn anything of worth. Half breeds and twisted non-humans, those that had answered the call to darkness as by their nature. That was not a place Snape could reliably deliver potions seven days out of a month.

But for now, the responsibility was still his to uphold. A promise he made was never broken lightly. Especially not with Lily. The cauldron of that fetid brew sat behind him, near enough to a ventilation point so the fumes that wafted from the slot would not build in this limited space. That cauldron would not need to be touched until later tonight.

Instead, Snape turned his attention to their medicinal cabinet. Though he had already spent a vast amount of time in his lab, most of the hours Lily spent at work, he had managed to contribute very little in the way of practical potions.

Between lacking the funds to procure ingredients and being unable to gather various herbs and grasses needed due to seasonal availability, many brews lay out of practical reach. The results of several ventures into the wild woodlands of the Forest of Dean and what was left of his and Lily's school supplies amounted to a grand total of two doses of simple Pain-Relief Potions. One of which Snape had seriously contemplated downing when he first woke upon that couch, propped on an awkward angle.

This was perhaps the greatest advantage of his lessons in alchemy. The ability to generate ingredients out of reach by increments. A laborious and time consuming task for even the most mundane of ingredients sought, and one he would ordinarily not willingly sink time into without need. Or silly hormonal prompting.

But today he reached for the distraction willingly, whiling the time away so that Lily might have all the space she needed to think. And if the fates be merciful, choose to absolve him of his tilted confession.

* * *

Lily would be the first to admit she had no idea how gardening worked. Watching her mother by brief glimpses in the yard only gave her the barest of notions that she had to dig a hole and sprinkle seeds into it and give it a drink every day or so. Thankfully a few years in herbology gave a little more of an idea of a garden. Such as soil nutrients and acidity, and the occasional Untangling Charm upon unruly roots of a Devil's Snare or an Impediment Jinx upon the head of a snapping Venomous Tentacular. But for mundane muggle plants such as these seeds of a purple iris flower that her mother had loved to grow, Lily feared much of her magical understanding of the craft may be far less useful.

Sev might know a little more than her on the topic, having performed exceptionally in every assignment and practical task. That was not unusual for any given topic, but anything to do with his beloved Potioneering he seemed to excel in spades. But then maybe not for mundane flower growing, as his ties to his muggle roots was sparser than her own. And perhaps more tangled than that of the Devil's Snare.

But today was not a day where she ought to bother him needlessly with her woes. He had been distant with all morning, and the silence over breakfast was enough to send her out into the yard before her dishes touched the sink. Their conversation last night cut too close to the trauma, she supposed, and some time to himself would be what he needed.

Lily had planned on spending the day out in the yard to give him full reign of the house. Peace and silence, as he always seemed to enjoy. To that end she had better find a viable hobby soon, because silence and solitude had never been her cup of tea. And it seemed there would be a fair few days in the coming year with Sev going to a high-engagement job and her friends off fighting a war.

Of her options, gardening seemed the most viable, by opportunity and cost-wise. She still had most of her gardening supplies left over from herbology, now it was just a matter of figuring out how to utilise them effectively for muggle gardening.

A grand yard of flowers had been her goal, as her home once had under the tender care of her mother. After her mother's passing, the more fragile of those plants withered under her father's neglect, while the more robust of their brethren mounted an aggressive takeover of the yard space.

It got to the point where it was far simpler to tear them all out indiscriminately by the roots, rather than attempt to tame them to a ghost of her mother's splendour. It was quite sad, really, seeing the yard barren of her mother's toil.

She missed the vibrant colours, the fragrant smells of spring and summer, but most of all, she missed her mother. And now her father too.

With a rough swipe across her eyes with her muddied hands, Lily stemmed the tears that welled at that errant thought. Despite the time since their passing, and the plethora of events since, she could not help but get a little maudlin whenever she had too much time to dwell upon their memory. Severus would no doubt call her silly over such sentimentality.

She returned to her planting with a little more vigour, patting the earth good and firm about the iris seed she embedded then hosed them down with a jet of water from her wand.

"You better grow for me," Lily muttered at the non-sentient plant life, feeling rather silly and emotional as she did so.

"They won't. You planted them in the wrong season," came an unexpected voice, causing Lily to spin about and scan her empty yard.

"Over here dearie," the voice called again, directing Lily's eyes towards the fence line, only then noticing the little grey bun of hair sticking over the top. "I hope you don't mind my nosiness. I do love a spot of gardening and at my age I seldom can do anything that requires me to stoop for more than half a minute."

"Oh. Feel free to…" Lily replied, feeling a little self-conscious over her little emotional show moments back. Hopefully the narrow gaps in the fence from which her neighbour was spying through was enough to muddle that moment.

The little bun of hair seemed to wobble for a moment before the rest of her head appeared to pop over the fence, revealing the face of a cheery elderly lady with a face almost swallowed by lines and liver spots. "You're quite the pretty little thing now that I got a good look at you," the lady chirped as she appeared to wobble dangerously. "Hush, Oh behave you," she chastised downwards to her unseen carrier. "My rocking chair is getting on in years as I am. It doesn't float nearly as well as it used to."

Lily approached the fence, craning her head to make eye contact with the pensioner on the floating chair. "My name is Lily Snape," she announced, getting used to introducing herself as such. "I just moved in with my husband a few weeks ago."

"A husband as well? My, I must say, you two have been making yourself scarce. Haven't heard a peep from this household for nigh on fifty years. If it weren't for the tended lawn, I might not have even noticed I had new neighbours."

Lily winced at the realisation that she should have introduced herself the moment she moved in. That was basic expected neighbourhood etiquette. Especially for a small country town like this. "Sorry I didn't drop by to introduce myself earlier. It's been a hectic few weeks," Lily offered, a little absolved by the truth in her words.

"Oh I wasn't blaming you dearie," the old lady quickly reassured. "I know how it can get like for you young ones. Always rushing from here to there, chasing one grand idea after another. My great-nephew was like that, as too was the boys who used to live here. Why, I still remember when the Dumbledores still lived in this household. Very quiet family too, you know. Not much into yard work either, apart from the odd trim."

"You knew Professor Dumbledore?" Lily couldn't help but ask, interest stoked by the mere mention. She knew this house belonged to the Headmaster, but Sev had said that the man had abandoned the household for the better half of a century. Never in a million years did she think anyone living here that would still remember the original inhabitants, let alone as children.

The old lady gave a short sharp, rasp of laughter. "Ah yes. Of course. You young people would all be very familiar with that name, very recently too. Yes that Albus Dumbledore had lived here, along with his mother, brother and sister."

"He had siblings?" Lily found this all very fascinating.

"Why yes. Aberforth, and… I've still not got any notion of the sister. I suppose I should have remembered what they put on the tombstone, but it has been such an awfully long time. Poor dear. My nephew was such good friends with the Dumbledore boys, and he didn't even stay for her funeral. I didn't want to think badly of his actions, but I suppose worse has been said since."

"Oh my," Lily uttered, fascinated.

"Now if you don't mind me asking. When you said your surname is Snape, I don't suppose you have any relations to the Snape in the recent papers?" A copy of the Daily Prophet floated itself over the fence edge to dangle the headline before Lily.

' _Severus Snape, The Slayer of Basilisks and The Protector of Slytherin to be Appointed the Youngest Professor in British History at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.'_

Lily nodded eagerly as she offered the paper back to the elderly lady, pride swelling in her breast. "The very one. He's my husband."

A wide smile stretched across the old lady's face, "Can I interest you in tea? It has been a while since I've had someone new to converse with. I would very much love to have your husband over as well."

"Oh certainly," Lily agreed eagerly, jumping at the chance to meet someone new and explore this new line of fascinating dialogue with someone who actually knew the old Professor as a youth, unimaginable a concept as it might be. "I'll see if I can convince him to step outside. I swear he acts as if he's allergic to sunlight."

"Married a vampire, did you?" the neighbour asked lightly, with sparkling humour in her ancient milk-white eyes.

"If I had, then I found the only one that exists off a diet of coffee and gruel," Lily remarked, prompting her new friend to laugh.

"You got spunk. I like you," she chuckled, wobbling on her magically levitating seat. "I need a little time to make my house presentable. Goodness knows when I last had a guest over and heavens does it show. But the clean-up shouldn't take too long if I rent an elf. How about I have you over some time this afternoon? Bring your husband if you can, if you can't, well, have him know us ladies will be talking about him behind his back."

"Oh he'll be delighted to come, knowing that," Lily agreed, delighted to have found socialisation prospects within her new neighbourhood. They were going to get on splendidly.

But as the elderly lady sunk out of sight, Lily suddenly realised she had neglected to establish one very important piece of information. "Oh excuse me. I haven't caught your name, Ms-?"

Her neighbour immediately bobbed into sight once more. "Oh heavens, how silly of me. I forgot all about introducing myself. My name is Bathilda Bagshot, but I am well too old to be known as a miss, and Madam Bagshot is too formal. Bathilda will do, dearie." And with a rosy smile she ducked out of view once more.

It was a moment more before the name finally clicked within Lily's mind.

* * *

"The Author of Hogwarts a History, Sev!"

Standing by the base of the cellar stairwell, Lily was attempting to convince Snape how it was not an utterly miserable idea to spend an afternoon with their elderly neighbour.

"As well as a dry old tome about the innumerable, and frankly pointless, histories of the Goblin Rebellions I remember you were less than thrilled to be reading back when History of Magic was compulsory," Snape muttered, laying a newly transmuted Azalea petals between two wet cloths. With a flick of his wand he pressed an invisible heat upon the moist cloth, rendering it dry in an instant.

Lily threw her hands up in exasperation. "Come on, Sev! We have a famous person as our neighbour. And she invited us over for tea!"

"If you wish to go, be my guest."

Lily turned her wide green eyes wide and pleading. "Oh come on, Sev. We just moved into this charming little village. Let's play good with the neighbours."

Snape scowled, unable to think of anything more skin-crawlingly irritating than having to exchange friendly how-do-you-dos with people you only knew because of proximity. He had a lot of experience with living in one location long term without ever getting to know any of his neighbours; he was positively a certified professional at the whole ordeal, and it was an expertise he had every intention of capitalising on.

"How you spend your afternoon is your prerogative, Lily," Snape muttered as he delicately peeled back the sheets to reveal the flash-dried flower petals.

"But don't expect to rope you in, right?" Lily muttered, disappointment etched into her face and form. And nothing stung more than her disappointment. He was beginning to believe her aware of this fact, especially when she whipped it out on something so frivolous. But after dealing her the genuine disappointment in knowing whose dark cause he had willingly patronised, he suddenly found the will to compromise.

"I relent," Snape gave with a sigh, causing Lily's disappointment to lift straight into a jump for joy. "But," Snape had to add, causing Lily to cease her celebrations promptly. "I don't want this to be the only time we share today, overseen by a chaperone."

Those red eyebrows went up. "How about let's schedule that activity for later. There's no need for the two to clash."

It took a moment for Snape to get on the same page as his wife. "I can assure you I hadn't meant what you are insinuating. I do have thoughts comprised of innocent intentions."

"Oh pardon me then. It seems our free afternoon has just become a little freer." Lily harked breezily to Snape's narrowed eyes.

"I still want your time, Lily. But I had wished to have a calm and composed conversation." That cheeky smile withdrew a fraction, as did her suggestive eyebrows. "After last night, I believe we have much to discuss, and I would rather it be dealt with early than allowed any uncertainties to build and fester."

For a moment, neither spoke, rackling Snape's nerves worse than anything he could have imagined being said. He had already run every possible reaction through his head a dozen times, except one. No-reaction. But thankfully he did not have to weather this possibility, for Lily unstuck her jaw and gave a sheepish smile.

"Yeah, I suppose we do. Sorry… I didn't mean to dodge this conversation." That smile she had was gone, the entire mood of the conversation suddenly shifted. Snape felt a pang of worry that he might have prodded too keenly at the dormant doxy nest and should have left well enough alone. But then those green eyes met his. Soft. Un-accusing. "You've been through a lot… I won't pretend to understand, Severus. But know that I'm here for you, whatever you need."

Lily approached but before she could lay a hand on him, Snape took one step back, out of her reach. She stepped back too, a sheepish grimace upon her face. "Sorry. Lab rules. I forgot."

"It's not that," Snape muttered, his scowl equally sheepish. "I just… you forgave me far quicker than I had imagined… than I thought the truth of my having been a Death Eater warrants."

There it was. The flicker of discomfort across her beautiful face. That realisation she's in the presence of a monster. She slowly shook her head, but the words from her mouth was not that of dismissals, or accusations. "I believe you a victim, Sev. I don't see you as one of them. Besides, it was such a brief part of your life. And you didn't do anything terrible really."

Snape's scowl darkened as he tore his eyes away from Lily's, unable to fathom this reaction. "Then you have completely misinterpreted my confession."

"Then tell me," Lily urged, stepping forward again. "Make me understand."

But he couldn't. This secrecy he was trapped into. The means to win the war, and the need to protect her. He turned away, unable to form the words within his mind let alone speak them. But Lily would not let up.

Her fingers found their way upon his cheeks, flittering across his skin as she pulled him back about to face her. "Talk to me, Severus. You wanted us to talk, so talk to me."

"It was… unforgivable," was all he managed through gritted teeth.

Her bright eyes searched insistently for his. "I forgive you."

"You shouldn't. Not this easily." Snape didn't know why he was being so insistent. Why was he trying to ruin things for himself? "I fell to foul ideologies. I took to their causes, knowing the harm they aim to cause. I did it for nothing more than power, and resentment."

"Very succinct. Good to know I don't have to explain to you what you did wrong," Lily quipped lightly, her tone infuriatingly light of any consequence.

Snape tried to turn away again but was held in place by her firm but gentle hands. He tried to look away, but those green eyes drew him in. "My mistakes could have cost you so much… they could have cost you your life." And they very much did, because he put his faith in the wrong people. And because he was a stupid little boy who wanted to feel powerful.

Lily's fingers slipped from his cheeks, and for a moment he thought she would withdraw, but instead she stepped closer and wrapped her hands about his waist. "But they didn't. And I need you to always remember that," she muttered into his chest, her presence so warm and comforting. A balm against his incessant doubts. "I am alive. You didn't harm me."

"But I did…" he whispered, his lips curling as he tasted that bitter admission. As he knew what grievous sin he had to hold himself accountable for, for nobody else can in this lifetime.

Lily leaned back to meet Sev's eyes once more. "You didn't. You were there for two months at most. And you came back a better man than I could ever have hoped for. You did no harm to me." Then she leaned in and urged more earnestly, "I need you to remember that, Sev. Your nightmares aren't real. I am alive, and I love you."

Her words touched his heart, and for the longest moment he did not speak. Seeming to take that for a sign of his continued brooding, Lily leaned in, stretching upwards to press her lips to his. A kiss, like so many they've shared since that fateful first by the lake. But a kiss no less sweet than that first had been.

"That wake you up?" she asked, a smile on her lips but her eyes were earnest and searching. "I'll remind you every time you forget, Sev, so don't… slip away, alright?"

Was it pity he saw in her eyes? Why did she pity him? It was she that he wronged, it was she that stood to lose from his foolish mis-decisions. Yet she held him in no blame, trying to ease him of a pain she could not even possibly comprehend. And yet, that she would try, was already more than he deserved.

* * *

It seemed a little socialisation was all she and Sev needed to put aside the awkwardness between them. Though he protested taking tea with their elderly neighbour, he had behaved the perfect polite gentleman the entire time. He had even relented to trying a freshly baked biscuit that Bathilda had her rented House Elf whip up.

But all too soon, the weekend passed.

The sound of that little bell caused Lily to whip about to attention. After three weeks at her new job, Lily had already been conditioned to react to the sound of a customer entering. No matter what task she was doing, whether it be straightening out the shop floor at the front or tinkering with a trinket out back, she would drop everything and rush to greet the newly entered.

"It's only me, dearie," came Madam Swelley's answering voice as she shrugged off her dripping cloak, dispelling the water messily from her garments. "My goodness is it pouring out there. Slow day today, I fear."

Lily scourged away the water upon the floor then stared glumly out the battered display windows, already feeling the press of a long and uneventful day. "Well… at least there'll be plenty of time to thoroughly dust the displays," Lily sighed as she made to return to the shelves that lined the shopfloor, casting a dusting spell over the tops of the shelving. A relatively quick and painless process now, but the first time she had done so sent a year's worth of detritus cascading about her ears. Thorough cleaning hadn't seemed to be one of the shop's highest priorities it seemed, especially with only the Madam and her husband running the place.

With a sympathetic smile, Madam Swelley gave her a passing pat on the back as she shuffled inside and unpacked the ham and cheese pastry she bought from the café next door. She sat down with her lunch at a tea table by the door of the backroom, set up so staff would always be able to keep an eye on the shop floor while they ate.

Picking up one of the twirling bobbles upon the shelf, Lily straightened it overly meticulously. If things continued like this she might develop a pedantic streak, and there was only enough room in her relationship for one person with this type of neurosis.

"It's not picked up all week," Lily huffed as she tried to separate two toy griffins grappling animatedly on the shelf. One had caught the other's wing in its beak and seemed intent on tearing its ceramic flight feathers out. "I'm starting to fear I've somehow offended your patrons."

Madam Swelley dismissed it with a wave of her hand through the doorway. "Oh pish. You couldn't be more popular with my patrons. Why I swear Old Tom comes down here to browse twice a week now just for conversation."

Lily stepped into the back room with the offending griffon to tuck away into a box until it settled down. "Yeah but storm or no, this week has been so quiet. Even Tom's not come in since he stepped in for those self-polishing spoons last Friday."

"Yes it has been rather quiet hasn't it?" Madam Swelley agreed. "I think it was that incident in the paper on Monday that's got everyone scared to come out. What with a murder happening just three streets away."

"Ah right, of course," Lily muttered lamely, mentally chastising herself that she hadn't put two and two together. She hadn't even known that terrible incident had happened until she came home and found Sev pacing nervously back and forth before the fireplace. He had been quite vocal in his concerns since, even once suggesting she quit her job for the sake of her safety, prompting her to deliver him an earful over his ridiculous and unnecessary worry.

Madam Swelley patted the seat beside her and offered her a rosy cup of tea that seemingly appeared from nowhere. "Don't fret about it dear. Business has its ups and downs, but I promise you now next week will be hopping."

"Oh? How do you figure?" Lily asked as she sat and accepted the cup.

The jolly witch gave a knowing smile. "Why, the Hogwarts letters go out next week."

"First year students!" Lily gasped.

"Not just first years," Swelley said with a wink. "Muggle-borns. They buy half my shop on the first week those letters are out. There's just something about baubles and toys that fascinate them so."

Lily felt the excitement bubble up at the prospect of greeting those wide-eyed and eager children and welcoming them into the magical world. What wonders everything must seem to them, that awe and joy over finding out that not only was magic real, but that that it would become an integral part of the rest of their lives. It wasn't so long ago when she had been that very child, staring with slack-jaw fascination at the very trinkets she now stood responsible for.

"They will not be able to resist our feisty little griffons," Lily agreed with a jubilant smile, reminiscing. "Why when I was first introduced to the magical world. I couldn't walk past a shop without smearing my nose across the window."

Madam Swelley glanced to her with a hint of surprise over her features. "Were you a muggle-born then?"

"And still am. Umm, that's not a problem is it?" Lily asked with a touch of worry over the reaction of surprise.

"Oh no. Not at all. In fact I should have guessed from the first day as you came in in muggle dress, but here silly old me was thinking you were just in from the Cauldron. Can't run around out there in anything but muggle-wear," Swelley quickly reassured with a shake of her head. "I've nothing against Muggle-borns. Why, my great aunt was a muggle-born, I think. Or was it her mother…? Oh well, not important." She shook herself and resumed her bright and bubbly smile. "I didn't mean anything by my surprise. I just hadn't expected it. I mean with your husband the way he is, I hadn't thought-"

"What's wrong with my husband?" Lily asked, even more confused.

"Oh, nothing is wrong. With him, that is. I mean, nothing I would like to comment on," Swelley waffled, uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. "I really just meant, I hadn't expected a muggle-born to be married to a man with… well… you know. Those ideologies."

Lily felt a chill grip her heart. "What ideologies?" she asked, suspecting the worst.

The portly lady gave her a sympathetic smile. "I don't mean anything by it. Just a baseless conjecture, I'm sure. That Skeeter woman would write anything, really."

She pulled a folded up newspaper and handed it to Lily, grimacing apologetically as Lily read the headlines with creeping horror.

' _Scandalous Death Eater Past: The Protector of Slytherin's horrifying secret.'_

Lily all but snatched the paper, glaring at the headline with utter disbelief. The article read like absolute sensationalist rot, but she could not deny the truth of the matter. He had confessed as much himself, mere days ago.

"How did they find out?" she breathed, utterly aghast.

"So it's true then?" Swelley asked, eyes wide and curious as a pair of her own enchanted baubles.

Lily folded the paper up with a huff and returned it, "Everyone's made mistakes. It's none of anybody's business, frankly." she snapped, a little harder than she intended but her boss didn't seem the least bit offended.

"Of course, dear. I wasn't accusing him of anything," the portly lady quickly reassured.

"And the nerve of them. Painting him out as being disingenuous with his intentions. Dragging all the good that he's done through the muck!" Lily continued heatedly, brought near to tears by her righteous anger.

"You're right. It's none of our business." Swelley hurriedly removing the newspaper from Lily's shaking hands and tucking it away before it could cause more affront. "And I'm sure your husband's a good man. He's certainly a brave man. And if a clever wizard like Albus Dumbledore would hire him on as a professor, there shouldn't be even the least bit doubt about where he stood. I actually feel rather silly I even brought it all up at all. Why, I'll bet he ran away from the whole blasted ordeal when he realised you would be who he would hurt the most."

Lily's lips twitched upwards in a watery smile. She wiped away the tears, breathing deep and willing away the righteous anger. Madam Swelley lifted her teacup and brought the lip of the cup to Lily's untouched cup with a little ceramic clink. "To true love, and all that."

She could not fight the smile now. "To love," Lily repeated, as she brought the cup up and took a healing draught of hot, calming tea. "And for the record, that really is why he did what he did. He told me as much," Lily offered, realising Sev would probably balk at this candid offer of insight into himself but Lily just wanted to set the record straight. Even if it was for only one person. "My husband joined them over the reigning influence within his school House, for he was a Slytherin you see. And he was too young to be able to fight free of that awful nonsense." She shook her head in an exasperated manner, more dismissively than she felt of the whole ordeal. "But he was always too clever to be led by the nose like that. He left them just as quickly as he joined. He said, he feared over what he might do to me had he gone down that path." And feared so deeply he had, for the nightmares had not left him as he had tried to leave them.

"To love so deeply and be loved the same." Madam Swelley sighed, "Oh to be young again," before they both lapsed into silence over their steaming cups of tea.

* * *

A/N: A chapter of tea and chatting with wholesome neighbours. I heard it's a very British thing to do. Well, country-British. City-brits have a bit of a reputation for being miserably introverted.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and cookeroach for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 6th April 2019 AEDT.

 **Chapter 57: To Snare a Pest**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	57. To Snare a Pest

**Chapter 57: To Snare a Pest**

Severus' reaction to the whole ordeal was predictable to say the least. Within minutes of arriving home through Floo, he set upon her, still dripping with moisture. As it turned out, since the moment he had read the morning paper, he had spent the remainder of the day standing watch over her store in the soaking downpour to safeguard her from Merlin-knows-what.

As far as she could tell, this was the reason she was now at Hogwarts, set loose to wander the halls of Hogwarts alone while Severus attended urgent matters with the headmaster. Apparently being left at home alone was out of the question as Severus appeared to be convinced the defensive enchantments of the household had a flaw wide enough to allow hostile ears into their conversation.

Lily, however, offered the idea that perhaps the leak was on the other end of his measurable mistakes, such as with the Death Eater recruits who might have served with him. But he didn't even give her idea the time of day, so convinced the fault was on their end. Personally, Lily thought anybody morally destitute enough to throw their lot in with such an extremist cause would hardly bat an eye over dragging someone's good name through the muck.

At least they were both in one agreement. The leak could not have possibly happened during that brief interrogation by old Mad-eye. If there was one place eavesdropping techniques could not succeed it would be in the presence of that high-strung Auror.

Lily huffed as she glared out of the open windows, feeling the warmth of the afternoon sun filter sluggishly through the glass. The storm that had lashed the south seemed to not have touched the sunny peaks of the Scottish north. Hogwarts forever seemed a place removed from the real world.

But without the sound of children's laughter, the fairy tale soured. The absence of bustle and life brought what was bright and magical into the deep and dire shadows carved by the waning sun. Lily glanced down the shadowed halls as the braziers flickered to life, their flickering fires lending life to the shadows they carved through.

A loud creak sounded from somewhere down the shadowy hall, causing Lily's hair to nearly stand on end. No doubt it came from a suit of armour having a good stretch after a long day of standing still, but even so Lily's imagination binned that logical conclusion and proceeded to run unapologetically wild.

"Truly living up to the haunted castle look tonight," Lily muttered to nobody in particular, quelling nerves that had gotten jumpy all of a sudden. Which honestly was quite silly. She had been given the duty to patrol these very halls after hours, and the atmosphere of the castle seldom rattled her. Perhaps on her first patrols as a prefect, but the atmospheric ambiance of a dark and very much haunted castle quickly lost its novelty to the dull routine of mostly benign patrols.

She must have gotten too used to the silence. Her new home, though warm and magical, was so quiet. Even when both she and Sev were home, noise was rarely the staple of their household. Sometimes Lily wished he had a noisier hobby than sitting downstairs and brewing all day or leafing through the daily paper with a critical eye. Even her old muggle household had been full of noise and life, with the whistle of the kettle, the occasional car that chugged noisily down the road, the television set that seemed always on at funny hours, playing the most unusual of shows.

It was the sound of life that she craved, and though Hogwarts never lacked for ambiance, it was not that of a welcoming form when it was empty of bustle and children. And though she had walked these very halls on nights such as this, it was the first time she was made so aware of the fact that there would be no other living soul within these castle walls save for herself, Sev and the headmaster, and most likely the hundreds of elves that ran the kitchens. Did they go on holidays?

Come to think on it, why was Professor Dumbledore here? Was it because she and Sev were living at his house? But that can't be right. Bathilda, as she liked to be called, insisted that the Dumbledore household had stood empty for the past half a century. Did Professor Dumbledore simply never leave the school? Every other member of school staff left the grounds for these long holidays, she had ensured to enquire the last time she was here alongside Marlene. Their company made the empty castle seem as alive as a hundred Gryffindors would.

Lily shook her wristwatch from her robe sleave, frowning at the ghastly hour and pondering how much longer Sev was going to take to wrap things up. She had work in the morning and would rather not sleepwalk through her shift. Madam Swelley was finally going to put her through some enchantment training and Lily would very much love to absorb as much as she possibly could. Not to mention she hadn't even had dinner yet.

She paced down the hall as her thoughts turned to storming the office behind the gargoyle interrupting the no-doubt-riveting meeting with a little practical necessity. But her empty stomach won out after a loud objection, and she turned towards the stairwell, intent on paying the overworked kitchen elves a visit and walking off the unseemly jitters that had come upon her.

It was moments like these that made her doubt her sorting into Gryffindor. She just wasn't used to being alone, she had reasoned to herself. And nothing made her feel more alone than a great creaking vacant stone fortress, filled with ghosts and ghouls and various other archetypes of the typical haunted castle.

That was perhaps the other reason she wanted to descend into the kitchens to wait out her visit. The warmth and bustle of the kitchen would serve to dispel any lingering illusions of solitude. She wondered if they would do some pasta on request. The unusual one with the white cream and bits of bacon in it.

It was these thoughts that accompanied her down the long solitary descent, keeping her mind happily occupied descending through the long lingering shadows. She barely noticed the journey to the basement level, passing the great barrels that lined the doorway to the Hufflepuff common room as she approached the passage to the kitchen. But a sound made her stop in her tracks.

"Lily?" A haunting voice wound its way about the halls, causing her to stop in her tracks as her nerves jangled on end. She turned from her path, momentarily caught between her morbid curiosity and her rational desire to duck into the relative warmth and safety of the kitchens.

Before she knew it, her feet took her in the very direction of that haunting beckoning before her mind had even made up its own course. "This is exactly why Sev thinks I lack a sense of self-preservation…" Lily muttered to herself as she resigned to her destructive curiosity.

The kitchen was just ahead, behind that portrait of a cheery bowl of painted fruit, yet there she turned for the path that lead through the kitchen storage. An area that was ordinarily off-limits to student access, but frankly so was the kitchen, and that had never stopped a hungry Gryffindor.

The magical wards hung about this door were the kind that barred malevolent intentions. Lily had always theorised that barring the areas personally claimed by the teachers, no part of the school was ever denied to children who simply wished to explore, but if one trespassed where they shouldn't with malevolent intentions, then the school itself would bring its sentient magical force to bear.

Lily softened her step as she snuck past the rows of cupboards that held the breads, fruits, vegetables and meats, held in place by the domestic spells that warded against spoilage. She continued past the beech wood doors that lined the pantry, each housing an entry to cool stores where hocks of deli meats were hung outside out of stasis to age and vegetables to pickle. Food that had to be left outside of stasis.

She had visited this area once, alongside the Marauders during the last week of her schooling. It was a quick visit to the kitchens to enlist the help of those eager elves to cater for the end of year party, who brought them down to the pantry cool stores to select food for their platters. It was honestly more work than Lily had ever imagined going to an informal party held amongst the students, yet the elves were almost stumbling over themselves in their eagerness to please.

But the cool stores were not the only place that were cool it seemed, for the temperature dropped quite sharply the moment Lily stepped into the pantry. Quite a pleasant feeling in the dead of summer, but one tellingly familiar.

She kept her eyes peeled for the ghostly form that called her name, almost as if it were from within this very room. A voice that was increasingly familiar to her given time to dwell on it. For she had encountered this voice once before in tearful mourning, when this castle was touched by snow.

"Helena?" Lily whispered hoarsely into the shadowy dark, and for a long moment, nothing happened. Lily had all but thought she had imagined her name being called, but the chill did not dissipate; if anything, it sharpened. Lily anticipated the ghost's approach before she even picked out the barely visible form of the slender Ravenclaw avatar gliding through the wall. A good thing too, because her nerves were about ready to bolt.

"It's good to see you again," Lily proclaimed, genuinely glad to have her destructive curiosity affirmed by a familiar face.

Helena appeared to give a very literal ghost of a smile. "I welcome your presence, Lily Evans. But I confess I am confused as to why you are here. Have you not been graduated? I rarely see again those who leave."

"I assure you this situation is entirely out of my hands," Lily answered with a shake of her head. "My husband decided he had to make a visit to Professor Dumbledore this very minute, and that I must accompany him to the school grounds but be kept on the outer side of the meeting's doors. A very unideal situation."

"Husband?" The ghostly woman drew in close, curiosity touching her ghostly features.

"Oh, had you not heard? I married during the last Christmas break. I swear Peeves was harping it up and down the school."

"Peeves harps on a lot of things. Not all of it true." A very Ravenclaw response to rumours, or indeed to anything to roll off of that poltergeist's unreliable tongue.

Lily smiled, put to ease by calm and conversation, despite standing in the ominous dark of the Hogwarts basements. Ghost or not, a familiar face was all it took to lift the fey eeriness that accompanied solitude. "I'm afraid this one is true. My last name is now Snape."

A mirroring smile appeared upon the Grey Lady's ghostly lips. "Is he a good man?"

"The best," Lily answered without hesitation, but couldn't help but add. "When he's not going into absurd lengths to curb perceived threats; such is the reason I'm here today."

"He must care for you greatly." Helena's voice turned soft. A tone that cautioned Lily, for she was aware the ghostly girl's life had been ended in a jealous fit by a man who professed to love her.

"How are you feeling, by the way?" Lily suddenly asked, not finding an elegant way to sidestep this topic.

The ghostly Helena did not seem to notice this less than subtle change of conversation in the least. "I am very well, thank you. I thank you for asking. It is rare for the living to inquire of the dead."

"Oh. Well good." Lily nodded her approval. "I was just a little worried having found you down here. The pantry is not where I usually expect to be haunted by the ghost of a Ravenclaw."

"As intended. This is the last place anyone would look for me."

Lily couldn't help her nosy concern. "Is the Baron still bothering you?"

"He is not." Helena answered in such a sharp tone that Lily almost flinched.

"Sorry… I hadn't meant to… well, pry," Lily mumbled. Her contrition must have softened the undead girl to her overstep of curiosity.

Helena turned away, her voice dismissive. "He is not why. He is barely worthy of such lingering concern." The ghostly woman looked so very troubled. "I was… avoiding another. One with authority harder to ignore. Friar was kind enough to offer me sanctuary in his domain." Her voice held a haunting weight that Lily could not ignore but was finally wise enough to leave unmolested if not offered.

"I am sorry your intervening months hadn't been so kind to you," Lily offered sincerely, though knowing all too well that it was only a platitude. She could help the spectre no more than she could help the war, or even her husband. Just another passing gesture without substance, for she lacked the ability or weight to make the least bit of difference. A growing mire of frustration to a girl who was unused to being on the sidelines.

But despite the pointlessness of Lily's uttered words, the Ravenclaw ghost smiled as if her concern meant the world.

* * *

The wards hadn't failed, Dumbledore had assured Snape quite thoroughly of that. Instead, another method of subterfuge was being used to infiltrate his household. But until Snape saw proof with his own eyes, he could not rest easy.

It was not simply blind paranoia that spurred him to take it upon himself to search his household from top to bottom. Or so he kept reassuring himself, as the day wore on and no evidence of trespass passed his eye.

Ordinarily, he would have trusted the results of a sweep for charms and enchantments, but this house had so much magic worked into the bricks and mortar of its walls that it was impossible to discern what spells did not belong. As a result, from the moment Lily stepped through the fireplace, Snape had been carefully searching each room and hidden cavity he could reach within the household, focusing on where magic seemed to pool in the greatest intensity.

An entire morning faded into the aether, and the better part of the afternoon as well. Lunch might have been forgotten in its entirety had it been entirely up to him, however, at this time of his life his hunger still refused to be denied.

It turned out to be the moment of clarity he needed, that meditative state he enjoyed whenever he took upon the task of preparation, not dissimilar to his state of mind when engaged in potioneering. As he sat and sipped from his bowl of potato and leek stew, he arranged his calmed thoughts. It was difficult not to be spooked by this occurrence, but he knew better than anyone that while a frantic heart was prone to bold action, a frantic mind seldom parted with solutions. This was a situation that needed less action, and more thought.

Where in this household could one successfully place and hide a magical infiltration without incurring suspicion? Well, not many places would come to mind, given the need to have permission of himself or of Albus Dumbledore to enter into this household, and Snape did not know of any reporters he had willingly allowed into his sanctuary. Indeed, the tabloid writer, Rita Skeeter, had been known for her impossible exploits in uncovering unseemly, and oftentimes unprovable fantastical articles on her subjects. And Snape, for one, was certain he had not invited that woman across his threshold.

But no ward was impregnable, no matter how thoroughly laid. And for a cunning man who spent the better part of two decades wearing the mantle of spymaster for two factions, he knew better than most how to penetrate such defences.

He would not bother entertaining the possibility of unravelling the wards, for they were welded straight into the very bricks and mortar upon which the house stood. Nor did he think anybody could successfully employ diplomacy or trickery to gain trespass into this warded domain. He had entertained the idea of Polyjuice, having had quite a few galling experiences of being made a fool of by the substance in the past. But to do so, they could only succeed through an invitation across his threshold. And he had only done that favour for one, Marlene McKinnon, a girl of questionable wit and talent, but of unwavering earnestness. A risky individual to emulate, even for the most robust of actors, for enthusiastic witlessness was harder to feign than false contemplations. Not a woman a prude like Skeeter would choose to impersonate.

No, if Skeeter was in anyway a similar of mind as he was, then she would sneak in a listening device. For as thorough as these wards were against hostile intentions and obviously hostile spells, there was an oversight in its design wide enough to send a magical breeze through. Perhaps devise a charm to flutter a spying artefact into the cracks of the house, somewhere it would be unlikely to be uncovered by accident. Perhaps have it crawl into a gap between the floorboards, or within the walls. It was an old house, and cracks along the joining edges and corners were to be expected, and a highly exploitable fault at that.

An obvious flaw for anybody with the first idea of subterfuge, and with any luck carelessly pursued, for nobody outside the obvious few ought to have any knowledge of their mark's similar aptitude with shadowy pursuits.

With his thoughts in order, his afternoon fell into a less chaotic rhythm, searching with renewed purpose in a far more targeted manner. As the afternoon sun dipped within the sky, though hours from meeting the horizon as the privilege of summer dictated, Snape's effort finally bore fruit.

A noticeable pool of magic existed between the first and second floors, and though that itself was not an uncommon state within this household, it provided a decent narrowing of search radius. Especially when he sent into that spot a probing blast of magical energy, designed to set off magical contraptions, and heard a rattle in response.

With narrowing eyes and a rising sense of satisfaction, Snape conjured a ladder and squeezed into the crawlspace, one of the rare uses for his slighter frame. Pointing the tip of his wand ahead, Snape wriggled forward slowly through the decade's worth of built up dust wads, gritting his teeth in irritation when an ill-timed breath served him a bite of the marauding grit, feeling an itchy layer of grime form upon his skin and cut through by the rivets of sweat wrought by the summer heat.

His efforts were rewarded with more than just a mouth full of muck, however, as his wand light fell upon a length of velum, too pristine and white and bereft of dust to have been abandoned for long. And alongside it was a jewel-bright feathered quill, so gaudy in its design that it could not possibly be any more obvious as it lay gleaming in its bed of dust. But one glance to the vellum left no doubt as to what that quill was.

His own words lay paraphrased upon that sheet, words he had uttered that very morning, bidding his wife a pleasant work day. Before that, a frivolous conversation over the merits of a hearty breakfast against that of a plain but nutritious one. And horrifyingly, buried in that scribe of conversations within this household was one that read like the trashiest of B-grade smut.

Snape growled in outrage, almost incinerating that scroll then and there. What went on between him and his wife in the privacy of their own home was theirs and theirs alone. How dare this unscrupulous column writer stoop so far as to infiltrate their sanctum? How dare she set this magical self-writing quill to spy on what was nobody's business!

Almost as if to prove his point, that vile magical instrument perked up, applying tip to its assigned vellum and penned out in long flowery strokes. From underneath the wooden boards upon which Snape sprawled on, he could hear the sounds of the fire roar to life.

" _I'm home," the girl called as she righted herself in the fireplace, dusting herself off straight onto the carpet. She will hear of this later, her expression seemed to say._

The quill knew of the speaker's intention without needing to be in the same room it appears, its magic working off proximity most likely. A most heinous violation of this household's privacy, and cunningly implemented at that.

No doubt this Skeeter woman would feel quite cocky about how cunningly thoughtful her plan was, and why shouldn't she? This was no subterfuge that could be uncovered by mishap. No ordinary wizard would follow a hunch so far to its root. She could not have possibly anticipated the will and wiles of Severus Snape.

Which will make it that much more satisfying when he wove his own vengeful weave about her.

* * *

Lily didn't know why she was still surprised by Marlene's sudden unannounced appearance. Appearing mere moments through the door after Lily stepped through the fireplace from work, with impeccable timing.

Sev's bedraggled appearance was honestly the most surprising thing of this evening, absolutely caked in dust and perspiration without a word of explanation. That, and the fact that dinner had slipped his mind again. But rather than allow him to scramble for the kitchen still caked in unexplained dust, Lily sent him upstairs for a shower while she got to work in the kitchen with an extra catering order in mind.

Lily set a pot of potatoes to boil. Bangers and mash was her go-to menu whenever she was on culinary duty. It was easy and timely, and Sev's never complained about it. Though if truth be told he'd never complained about any meal, the sagely polite individual that he'd become. He would simply eat around the things he didn't enjoy, if at all.

Marlene, however, was never shy about complaints. Especially to family, and friends close enough to be considered family. But thankfully sausages and potatoes was not too radical a meal option for the Scottish girl. She had already sat herself down and made herself right at home on the dining room chairs. Lily found her swinging back on the hind legs, teetering dangerously close to toppling over within her chair.

"You really got to stop stepping in unannounced," Lily chastised as she sat down, giving those potatoes some privacy to come to their potential. She set two cups of tea before them, sugared and creamed, just the way they both liked it.

Marlene swung back and accepted her drink and downed half in a gulp. "That's never been an issue between us before. What's changed?" she asked, her eyes scanning the table as if expecting biscuits to be offered. But honestly, it was too close to dinner. Lily wasn't going to risk spoiling their appetite, no matter how legendary the Gryffindor Chaser's was.

"I got married, remember?" Lily replied, sitting herself on the corner of the table and fixing her friend with a pointed stare. "And knocking will avoid embarrassment for the both of us."

Marlene rolled her eyes. "Well duh. That's why I avoid the upstairs. Don't want to walk in on the two of you getting frisky. Unless of course you two go at it downstairs too… do you?" she suddenly shifted uncomfortably in her seat, as if she thought the narrow uncomfortable dining room seat was a likely candidate.

Lily couldn't help but drive that point of discomfort straight in. "Well, we live here, don't we? Anywhere is fair game. One day you might just walk straight in on us breaking in the lounge room couch."

Marlene almost spat out her tea as she recoiled in disgust. "Urgh. Oh by Merlin's great dirty underpants. Lily! Overshare!"

"You've disclosed far worse with your love life," Lily huffed, hiding her blushing face behind a sip of hot tea.

"Yeah but… you know," Marlene gestured wildly, "Jamie-boy is… well…"

"Better than mine?" Lily raised an eyebrow challengingly.

"In some aspects… yeah," her best friend mumbled sheepishly, as if professing an unpopular point.

Lily had to glare her down a little for the principle of it all, before relenting, "You're not entirely wrong."

Marlene gave a start. "What really?"

"Sure. I'll be the first to admit that Sev's people skills really need some work. He could honestly be a lot friendlier." Such as that afternoon tea with their neighbour, Bathilda Bagshot, for one. Not a single word was offered from scowling lips without a pointed question being directed his way.

"Friendliness. Yeah sure. Start at the top of the list why don't you," Marlene mumbled.

"Look, I wasn't going to list his looks," Lily sighed, knowing exactly where her best friend's bugbears with her husband lay. "He's not the most handsome. I get that. But if I was after the most handsome husband, I'd have married Sirius Black."

That brought a snort of laughter from Marlene. "The two of you wouldn't even make it to the honeymoon. You'd hex each other to bloody pieces before then."

"No. I'm pretty sure I'd win," Lily remarked quite solemnly, only half in jest. "He's a lousy blocker, after all."

Marlene nodded in affirmation. "Fair point. And you can cast with nary a glance. My Galleons are on you." But then her smile melted away as a concern pinched her fair brows. "Actually… I wasn't going to list Snape's looks either. At least not at the top."

"How generous of you," Lily returned dryly.

Marlene forged on, not off-put by her best friend's waning demeanour. Barking her thoughts quickly as if trying to tear off a particularly nasty plaster. "It's that he was a Death Eater."

Lily's face fell, and for the longest moment she didn't know how to respond. But slowly her mind gathered itself, as did her heart. "Please don't believe everything you read in that rag," she chastised lightly, despite knowing how entrenched in truth that story had been.

"Not even a little bit worried that it might be true?" Marlene persisted.

Lily shook her head. "Even if it was, that's not the man he is now."

Marlene did not look convinced but pursued it no further. Instead she grimaced and confessed, "You know that's why I came when I did today, when you were supposed to finish work. I actually came a little later yesterday, but you weren't home. I actually feared the worst."

"We went to see Dumbledore. At least, he did, and I had to tag along. And over that same article I think," Lily explained with a wan smile. "But it was sweet of you to worry none the less."

"And Dumbledore didn't think it was anything to worry about?" her best friend asked with a questioning frown.

"Well, he did let us come back home, didn't he?" Thankfully. Lily never thought she'd want to leave Hogwarts, and she still loved that old castle to bits, but given the press of the real world and sleep schedules, and how little free time that left her with each day, she could not see herself happily spending it alone there. After all, half the joy was in the people.

Marlene finally relented. "Dumbledore knows his ins and outs. I suppose if he's not worried..." she didn't look entirely convinced, but that was as good a tone to leave this off as could be found while Lily returned to check on the taters.

But she barely had any time to prepare anything else when a great house-rattling thud occurred, followed by a shriek. Lily darted out of the kitchen, ladle still in hand, eyes wide with concern. But Marlene only stared back with confusion, her wand already in hand. "Blimey. That wasn't you, was it, Lil's?"

"What sort of potato could do that?" Lily asked as she strode out in search of the commotion, only bringing out her wand belatedly.

It came from above, that was all Lily knew for certain, that and it was not from the kitchen. Marlene took the lead, her wand flicking about before her like those dramatic photographs of Aurors. Lily followed behind, clutching her wand lamely, and fairly certain if it came down to it, she would not be all that useful.

Another thump sounded overhead, followed by a muffled groan. Marlene glanced up, her wand pointed where she looked. "Your husband?" she asked.

"Didn't sound like Sev," Lily muttered, her eyes following hers upwards towards the ceiling, her brows furrowed with concern.

"It was not me, I assure you." Sev's voice sounded directly in her ear, making the both of them jump.

Lily swung about, nearly losing her balance as her wand jumped from her fingers in start. Not an ideal response to a surprise. Sev's hand found her waist, steadying her back onto her feet. He was freshly showered now, robes clean, with a resigned look on his face as he turned his eyes upwards.

Marlene turned as if awaiting an explanation or instruction, only to be ignored as Sev stepped past into the lounge room. With a swift point of his own wand, a ladder appeared, seemingly to have fallen neatly from a tile above them, popped ajar upon the ceiling.

"How we gonna approach this?" Marlene asked, falling behind Snape, no doubt as if this were one of their training drills.

But Sev only shook his head as he laid his hand upon the wrung of that ladder. "I have this handled," he said in a voice that brooked no argument.

But Lily was always a rebel. "What? No. Don't go up there alone, you might get hurt."

"Which is precisely why I want both you girls out of the way," he growled, ascending that ladder swiftly, yet cautiously.

Lily did not retreat, but nor did she follow. Instead she stared up the ladder with wide concerned eyes, wondering exactly how she could be of help in this situation. It wasn't like she could climb up there with him into that space he was squeezing into now, with a modicum of difficulty too, despite his slim build.

Marlene, however, went straight for the ladder, seeming determined to follow him into that squeeze. That was, until she found herself leaping away in safety as a figure fell bodily from that opening, screeching the whole way down. Lily leapt with a start and came to the form with the upmost concern, until she realised it wasn't Sev.

Trussed up in thick conjured ropes and covered in dust as she stared dazed at the ceiling, was that vile woman who once hounded her Severus on school grounds. The very same woman that had fabricated those vile stories from half-reaped truths.

* * *

Sitting face to face with a cup of tea each was not how Snape envisioned this interrogation session. He had sent Lily and her friend into the dining room to great objections and only moderate success, but his authority lasted only as long as the time it took for tea to be prepared and levitated onto the tea table between both parties. Then both girls settled onto the lounge to watch.

Snape bit back a scowl but relented to this arrangement. This woman, Rita Skeeter, though a menace in the true sense of the word, was not anyone to pose any real tangible threat. And with this turn of the tables, this deceitful stain upon the noble vocation of journalism would have no choice but to play on unfavourable terms.

After all, the penalty for an illegal Animagus was nothing to sneer at. Something that could easily put a permanent end to a professional career. And though Snape hated this woman for every breach of his privacy and security, he would not be so half-witted to pursue the course of vengeance over tactical advantage. Though he seethed for the missed chance to do so. But the advantage of an Animagus with a form so easily overlooked is obvious to any who understood the value of intel.

"A beetle… I believe this explains a great many things," Snape began, dangling his knowledge so dangerously before her.

To her credit, Skeeter did not immediately fall apart, she did not beg or cry or carry on, but her face paled and her lips pursed as if given a sour drop.

"I don't think I need to tell you the penalties for being an unregistered Animagus..." Snape continued in a soft, dangerous tone, "let alone abusing it for profit, quite notoriously, I might add..."

"So, how much is it?" Skeeter finally barked, fury etched upon her sour face. "Because if you intended on turning me in, then you would have contacted Magical Law Enforcement by now."

"It's early yet to discount that as a possibility," Snape warned, savouring the flicker of fear that passed across that vile woman's features. "But for now, I am content to allow you a fair chance. So, please. Defend yourself."

This offer did not come from the kindness of his heart, far from it. But from how that reporter's eyes lit up, she had no notion of where she owed his mercy, nor how many needles lined that saving line thrown to the drowning.

"Because I can help you." That offer tumbled from her lips, so assured that she was regaining control of the situation. Snape could see her visibly relaxing, straightening in her seat as that hunch of fear left her shoulders. "Strapping young man such as yourself, just entering the cutthroat world of teaching. Why, it pays to have connections."

So quick to grasp at that offered salvation, she did not even stop to consider what he actually held against her, for he had no way of proving his claim. He could not truly even submit a memory in his testimony as he had not actually witnessed the shift of her form, at least not without Legilimency, and that itself opened a whole other can of worms.

When Snape had laid that trap, a binding curse upon her quill, he had expected her to summon the magical contraption out through the wards. He had expected to snare her outside one of his many tactically ajar windows. Instead, he caught the woman herself, blatantly violating wards designed to turn away her very ilk. That had meant various unpleasant conclusions. So for the sake of his own sanity, Snape had chosen to drive the point of his Legilimency straight through that woman's mind, laying bare all the secrets that she held. Through that mire of muck and bile she had procured by unforgivably dubious means and without a regard to the consequences for her victims, was her own secret. And an incredibly simple solution for a ward that turned away humans so effectively.

The form of a tiny, inconspicuous beetle.

But all of this was information that revealed too much about himself. His proficiency with the Mind Arts was one of the secrets he intended to keep to himself for now. All he had to work with was a dose of critical thinking and a tactical use of bluffs that had gotten her to admit this much. Using the softer approach, keeping her believing she had a way to talk her way out of this, kept her mind on the path he wished it on. And away from a bluff that withstood no form of scrutiny.

"So, you propose to grant my career a boost in exchange for overlooking your grievous overstep of my privacy?" Snape scathed, his blood boiling hotter than he should have allowed it to. "To overlook the outrageous allegations you had made about my past. To throw my professional suitability as a Professor into such disrepute before I had even been allowed to step into my role?"

"Which is all the more reason you should allow me to give your reputation a nudge in the positive direction," Skeeter asserted without an ounce of contrition. Not even the least bit abashed over the damage her slander had brought about. Or could have brought about. For Snape had Dumbledore's assurances on his side. Some things hadn't changed despite the life and circumstances that had. "Why, wouldn't you say having a pair of eyes upon your rivals might come in handy? Perhaps even a beetle upon the wall of the offices of your greatest rivals?"

"Are you offering?" Snape asked, keeping his tone light of consequence.

"How many beetles other than me do you have extending the offer?" Skeeter replied, so casually, oblivious to the trap unfurling beneath her feet.

Snape felt the vicious smile spread across his lips, seeing that fleeting moment of doubt to finally colour Skeeter's eyes. "I thank you for your kind offer," Snape almost purred, hearing Lily choke with indignation across the room. "In fact, I'll hold you to your words, right this moment." Skeeter's eyes narrowed, perhaps sensing that all was not as it should be. Perhaps sensing the tall figure that loomed behind her. "Wouldn't you agree, Albus?"

"I most definitely appreciate that thought, Severus." Skeeter almost leapt from her seat as that calm assuring voice sounded in her ear. Albus Dumbledore stood just by her shoulder, his blue eyes twinkling through his half-moon glasses.

"You set me up!" Skeeter shrieked, as if the realisation had just occurred to her now. The realisation of what was freely admitted from her own lips, all the evidence they had not had, laid out before the Chief Warlock of the the Wizengamot himself. Quite literally handed straight to the judge, her sentence seemed as good as signed.

Dumbledore appeared, so suddenly that even the two eavesdropping girls were taken by surprise. Both Lily and her friend Marlene were on their feet, as if the presence of their once-headmaster surprised them so much that they forgot they were no longer students.

Severus stood as well, but only to give his chair to the headmaster, and allow him to take over the reigns as chief negotiator. Rita Skeeter's narrowed eyes glaring daggers into him as he sent a sneer her way, satisfaction smouldering in the pits of his stomach over her horror.

There was only one thing they needed for this war, one thing that both Snape and Dumbledore valued above all else. And one role that an illegal Animagus whose form was an inconspicuous beetle, and who had extensive experience in unethical reporting, was exceedingly qualified to undertake.

* * *

Lily sat up in bed, huffing silently to herself as she flipped through her bedtime reading without taking a word in. Madam Swelley, or Selena as she liked to be called, was kind enough to lend her a volume on the basics of Kinetic Enchantment, one of the cornerstones of toy-making. Lily had leapt at the opportunity but had since found herself thoroughly distracted. Her mind could not stop dwelling on the day.

Dumbledore had appeared, suddenly, and mystically, within the lounge room and immediately assumed responsibility of the friendly chat with their intruder. Things happened quickly then, with Lily not comprehending half of what had happened. By the end of it, she only knew one thing for certain. That foul bugger of a reporter copped it big time. When Dumbledore left with that woman in tow, Lily was certain that no pleasant thereafters lay at the end of that.

And that alone brought a vicious form of vengeful satisfaction to Lily's heart.

Severus too seemed quite pleased with himself. No doubt it was his trap that brought that harpy to justice, and he should be rightfully happy with that result.

She could see that satisfaction edging his not easily giving lips as he came upstairs to duck into the shower for the third time this evening. Wolfsbane was the culprit this time, and Lily's refusal to sleep in the same room as him if that smell clung to him, even in the slightest.

Lily shot a vicious smirk his way as he passed through to gather his change of clothes. A short-cut white nightshirt that did not flow downwards to hide his black shorts; sleepwear she had nominated, and that he had taken to grudgingly.

When he emerged again, freshly showered and changed, Severus slipped into his side of the bed, his dark eyes hooded, but his jaw was set in a way that made her feel he was struggling to hide a kindred smile.

"Aren't you Mr Reliable," Lily murmured, glancing up from the book she was still giving a stubborn go at.

He met her eyes, finally admitting that smile that threatened his features all evening. There was something that transformed the way he looked when he smiled. It tickled Lily's heart whenever it appeared. It didn't make him look more handsome, but everything between them went beyond that now.

Of course, it didn't hurt that he was now quite a healthy, lean young man. His once-skinny legs showed the definition of a runner. Muscle presented itself, more than skin and bones to the touch. This quality was beginning to extend to his arms and, if he were to take his shirt off, his back and torso too. It seemed he took to the training program given to him with discipline and gusto, as he did with every other faucet in life. Such a far cry now from that gaunt boy she had fallen in love with.

Severus stared at her, almost lazily from where he lounged upon the sheets. He had yet to slip under the covers, airing his steamed skin off in the air of the cooling summer evening. If he would take his shirt off that would expedite the process, but Sev had never been one to seek out comfort over propriety.

Perhaps that was still down to the trauma he suffered in fifth year… perhaps he would always feel more comfortable covered more strictly than needed.

Perhaps he'd never feel truly comfortable, even when it was just her eyes upon him.

At the very least, comfort was what she should offer him, no matter what form it must take. Lily whispered a cooling charm under her breath, and she saw him shiver in response. His black eyes fixed on hers, inked with dark promises.

He stretched out, offering his wand to his bedside table. That instrument never left his side at any waking moment, and even as he slept, he would always keep it close at hand. But now he set it aside. His eyes never leaving hers as he slipped under the sheets.

Lily smiled as she felt his hand, cooled by the charm she had laid upon him, settle upon her thigh, tracing lazy circles upon her skin as he played with the hem of her nightdress.

She couldn't help but bite her lip as she finally laid that book to rest upon her own nightstand. She rolled onto her side, bracing herself with one hand while the fingers of her other traced the contours of his torso, enjoying the new definition upon his firmer form. It was an invitation, and he took it as such, leaning in so very eagerly, finding her lips and nipping it far more gently than she had.

Lily giggled, her hot laughter mingling with his sharp icy breath. He was playful tonight, and she loved it so. She felt his icy fingers take their exploratory path up her thigh, unrushed but with clear intent, as did her own fingers, slipping under his shirt.

But suddenly, memory caught up with her and Lily bit back a curse as she withdrew, burning pink with embarrassment. Severus was left, momentarily confused as she quickly shifted back to her side, pulling her night dress back down over her thighs. "Sorry, Sev. Not tonight. I'm on the devil's day of my cycle."

Severus withdrew, disappointment and confusion colouring his eyes in equal measure. "I don't understand."

"I'm on my period," Lily sighed, a little mortified for having to spell it out.

But that confusion did not withdraw from Sev's eyes, causing realisation to creep into Lily's mind and a smile onto her face. "Do you not know what that is?"

Sev's eyes went instantly glossy, as if he was desperately wracking his mind, trying to browse his extensive knowledge for an inkling of this new vocabulary.

Lily couldn't help the giggles that burst forth. "Do you need me to explain?" It was so ridiculous, but understandable. Sev didn't exactly have the best relationship with his parents, so without having been explained to on how things worked, how could he have been expected to know?

It was as if her laughter invoked defensiveness reactively. "No. Its fine. I get it," he growled within his own growing embarrassment, his assertions not convincing anyone.

"Oh my goodness!" she gasped as realisation burst through her fit of giggles. "And you're supposed to be a Head of House! How are you going to manage the girls in your house that hit puberty under your watch? You're going to get some uncomfortable questions!" As McGonagall did with Gryffindor girls in the second through to fourth years. There would always be some utterly uninformed about their own bodies, and the Head of House would bear that uncomfortable burden with such grace every year. Lily had been fortunate that her mother had saw fit to prepare her for the changes that would come, despite how her father protested the talk about how babies were made and how boys fit into that equation.

But Sev would have had no one to talk to him about any of these things. No wonder he dove straight into her shirt at the first opportunity.

"I think we need to have a talk about the birds and the bees, Sev," Lily said quite solemnly to her husband's growing mortification. "As the Head of Slytherin, there are certain responsibilities you simply cannot accomplish without knowing how girls work."

"It is the twenty-eighth day of the female reproductive cycle. I know what it is!" he reassured her, turning away as if trying to hide his burning blush behind his curtain of hair. "Madam Pomfrey already had a talk to me on this to ready me for my duties. It just… momentarily slipped my mind."

"Covered all the bases already. My, are they diligent." Lily giggled, laying back as exhaustion took after such mirth. "You haven't even started your employment, yet here they are, already betraying trade secrets of the female race."

Severus laid down beside her, his lips upturned with almost a wry and almost reluctant smile. "And if I'm all honest, my strategy is to send the girl to Poppy and allow her to deal with it."

She could not keep the giggles from returning at that notion, her laughter ringing through her sentiment. "Aren't you the clever one?"

* * *

A/N: The thought of Snape needing to talk to some 11-14 year old girls about how their bodies were changing amused me to no end. Oh the trials of being a teacher.

A/N: I know a lot of people expected the bug to have been in Snape's office overhearing his conversation with Moody. But I can't help but feel it's easier to infiltrate a century-old-enchantment designed to keep out hostile eyes and ears than to pull a fast one on old Mad-Eye.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and cookeroach for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 20th April 2019 AEDT.

 **Chapter 58: Once More to his Post**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	58. An Unusual Proficiency

**Chapter 58: An Unusual Proficiency**

The first week of July was always an exciting month for Hogwarts students at all stages of their tenure. That was the week when their parliament of owls called the upper house into session and mobilised all resources into delivering letters to students of present and future, and in Lily's case, past. While somewhere in Britain, bright-eyed new students were receiving their invitation into this magical school, she was receiving her goodbyes in the form of her NEWTs scores.

When Lily returned from work that day, a letter sat waiting for her upon her tea table, addressed to Lily, her maiden name inked upon the envelope. If Hogwarts didn't seem like a lifetime ago already…

"How did we go?" Lily called in the direction of the kitchen, knowing from the smells that wafted from that direction that Sev was in there whipping up a treat. She could taste the distinct tang of Worcestershire sauce in the air.

"I didn't check yours. That would be a breach of confidence." Severus emerged in the doorway of the dining room from across the hall, apparently still stubbornly refusing to put on the apron she had got him. She had even purposely avoided picking anything with flowers or effeminate designs, choosing one with rather uncontroversial black and white checkers.

Lily sat herself upon the end of the couch, taking a deep breath to calm the sudden jitters that set upon her. Severus swept over to sit beside her.

"Dinner alright without an eye upon it?" Lily found herself asking in a high and breathy voice.

Severus glanced at her, eyebrow arched. "Shepard's pie. It'll bake for a while yet."

"But maybe I should check on it?" Lily continued, already pulling herself to a stand.

Severus' hand flew out and caught her wrist, pulling her back down into her seat. "Open it," he commanded, firmly and gently. "I have every faith in you."

With shaking hands, Lily did as she was bade, pressing her fingers into the hard wax seal and cracking it in two. She hesitated as she flipped open the flap, her heart fluttering in her throat. Cool fingers slipped over her own as Sev's reassuring hands stilled her shaking ones. Together, they slipped out the crisp folded parchment, so heavy in her hands for a single page.

The outcome of her life born upon this letter…

With a settling breath, Lily committed to its opening, pulling the letter straight with determination.

Severus had been the first to speak, clapping his hand upon her shoulder to pull her into an embrace. "Congratulations, Lily. Three Outstandings. I expected nothing less."

Charms, Transfigurations and Potioneering. Three highly regarded subjects that she had achieved the highest accolades for. Furthermore, except for Care for Magical Creatures, which she would excuse herself for only managing a measly Acceptable, she had achieved no less than Exceeds Expectations for every other subject upon her roster.

She had the marks to do almost anything she wished. The world was her oyster.

But what did she want to do?

"Any suggestions, Sev?" Lily asked, holding out her scores. His look of mild confusion reminded her that he hadn't been privy to her thought process. "I meant any suggestion over what I could do with this score?"

Sev fixed her with a look, eyebrows upraised. "I had thought you had professed your desire to pursue potioneering once."

Lily took a moment to remember. "Oh yeah…" It always baffled her how easily Sev could recall small moments from the past. "I don't suppose this score could get me somewhere further with Charms-work could it?"

Sev's eyebrows went up. "Already done with potions?"

Lily winced. "Well see, I'm working in enchantments right now..."

"And it makes more sense to pursue a straight course where previous experience apply readily. I understand that." Sev relented surprisingly easily. She had feared he would disapprove of her wishy-washy ways. She was so geared up for a lecture over commitment to her already made plans that the absence of one left her feeling mildly dazed and confused.

"I suppose you could apply for further education in the field of charms within the ministry," Sev began, already setting his focused mind to the task. "It's not as necessary as a Potioneering Masterclass is to its dedicated professions, but honestly there are not many professions that are strictly tied to charms. I suppose it could make you a more attractive candidate for employment within the Magical Maintenance department in the Ministry, but it is not compulsory, nor is it strictly the only magical malady they deal with."

"Pass." Lily wrinkled her nose. Being stuck sweeping up other people's catastrophes was not how she wanted to spend her days.

"Most clerical departments in the Ministry prefer a good grasp on charms work. You might take to that profession."

A magical secretary. Wonderful…

"Pass," Lily huffed. "Is there not anything exciting and magical I'm qualified for?"

He glanced down upon the sheet in his hands, his eyes narrowing. "If you're hinting at something..." he growled warningly, causing Lily's eyebrows to tent in surprise.

"I really wasn't," Lily offered, her eyes wide and innocent, and for once utterly genuinely meaning it.

Sev stared for a moment more, before turning his eyes away. "But… if you were actually toying with this thought… even as a stray fantasy, I want you to remember how dangerous it is out there." He grimaced, as if pained by the thought. "And I want you to remember what you risk beyond your own life."

"I'm not going to join the Aurors..." Lily sighed, finally realising what Sev was tying himself into a knot over.

Those black eyes met hers again, holding them there, as if wavering on the threshold of something. But then they dropped. "I believe you," he mumbled, standing from his seat slowly, "I best check in on our dinner," he muttered.

"Hold it," Lily called, bracing her hands upon her hips. "We haven't discussed your scores yet."

Sev peered back, his dark eyebrows arched. "Feel free to see for yourself," he offered, an envelope appearing from a drawer at his wand's beckon. He didn't wait for her comment, slipping away and out of sight.

Well, permission was permission. Lily peeled the parchment from Sev's envelope. And felt her eyes rolling into the back of her head upon first glance.

"Eight Os?" she grumbled, suddenly feeling quite humbled by her own effort. "That's like… a full suite!" He didn't have a single subject under the highest of official scores. Even for the likes of Alchemy, a subject he had grumbled through for his full two years, sat with a shining gold star upon his record.

Lily marched into the kitchen, waving his score before her as if she was made somehow upset by the result, and perhaps she had been a little. "You could do anything you want to, literally, with scores like this!" Magical organisations of every creed would throw offers at his feet. No door would be closed to him.

He turned slightly towards her from the bench he had been magically sweeping clean of his evening's labours. His dark eyes glinting wry humour, as if she had uttered an off-colour joke. "I am certain then, that Dumbledore would be happy to release me from my contract to chart my own course upon the sea of opportunities that opened before me."

"Your sarcasm is so appreciated," Lily muttered with a mirroring tone. "But I forgot, you already hit the pinnacle of your life goals, _Professor_ Snape."

Severus sighed as if in surrender, turning back to his work as he vanished the refuse from the sink, leaving his workstation sparkling. So proper in everything he undertook.

"You'll make a wonderful professor," Lily added earnestly. He did not reply, but he finally relented a smile towards his reluctant title.

* * *

"I never realised how much went into being a Professor..." Lily's ponderous voice drifted over Snape's shoulder. Before him was a long sheath of parchment, meticulously detailing the subject load, and how he had planned to deliver it.

It was the Sunday night, precisely two weeks before the start of term, and equal time since Snape first received his notice of commencement of employment, which included a sheath of bound parchments outlining the policies and ethics that bound a Professor of Hogwarts, as well as his prescribed syllabus.

His heart had dropped when he laid eyes on those familiar manuals that had bound his previous life. The memory of teaching children who did not wish to be taught. An activity akin to beating his head against a brick wall.

He had not felt such dread since the days after he first awoke into this new life. Before he had realised that not all had to be as it were.

He hated that role, he hated that life. Had it not been for the duty of what he owed, he would have given thought to the opportunity to flee that role at the risk of Azkaban. He had hated his life at Hogwarts, as a student, as a teacher, and as a spy. An entire life of unpleasant memories, spent within those stone walls.

The idea of returning to that suffocating routine…

Perhaps that was why he had procrastinated for so long. To put quill to parchment over the subject delivery schedules he had to write. The failure to exercise that willpower until nearly past his allowable period of grace.

But thankfully, once he had crossed that reluctant threshold and sat himself firmly before the desk within the upstairs study, everything clicked like second nature. He gave barely a glance to the introductory guides to class planning he had been sent as part for all newly hired educational staff, finding far more sense to his own methods rather than the haphazard slosh devised to ease the annual novice hired into this role. Penning out a subject outline he had undertaken the delivery of only once but was still able to produce almost verbatim by memory. A labour of habit, if not love.

But not without a few changes to his accepted norm.

"Oooh, are you doing stuff in the Room of Requirements?" Lily asked, still nosing over his shoulder, clad in nothing but a bathrobe with her wet hair dangling dangerously close to the vicinity of his parchment.

Without glancing away, Snape tipped his head in affirmative. "It would be remiss of me to not fully utilise newly discovered resources."

"Passing on that little secret by official decree. You are going to be the coolest teacher ever," his wife claimed with a voice bubbling with excitement. A truer stretch of the imagination there had never been.

"It would be impossible to keep this room a secret any longer. Not with the Gryffindors holding parties in there every year."

With a grin, Lily turned back to Snape's scrawling parchment, so ready to offer her two cents on his professorial decisions.

"Bit light on the defensive spells in first year?" she critiqued, judgement quite obvious in her voice.

Snape frowned, not having expected to need to justify his decisions until he finished submitting his delivery plan. "Defence spell work is so closely tied to the Charms curriculum that there's little point in trying to teach beyond Professor Flitwick's pace. Conjuring sparkles are… no doubt stimulating to an easily distracted first year, but I do not see the value in the lesson beyond a waste of time."

That judgemental tone continued, "But I noted you're going heavy with the dark creatures right off the bat."

Snape's quill did not pause, "Most introductory topics to this subject are pointless and mundane. Would you not prefer to learn of the necessity of this craft by practical usefulness?"

"So… scare them into this topic?" Lily muttered.

Snape finally turned in his seat, replacing his quill into his inkwell. "I do not consider Doxys to be so nightmare inducing."

"No, but Basilisks very well are!"

Snape acknowledged the truth to that assertion. "That may be the case, but it is of both relevance to recent history of the school, and a valuable cautionary tale of how easy it is to err upon Wizarding Legislation. A basilisk egg is so easy to create that I'm surprised Hagrid hasn't yet gotten his hands on one."

"But really, you just want to boast about taking one down, don't you?" Lily teased.

Snape scowled, a little abashed over that not-untrue accusation. "There is also value to having a healthy respect for a professor."

A vicious grin took to Lily's features, such that Snape felt as if there had been something amusing hidden in his utterance. His wife took pity on his state of mild confusion. "That was the first time I've ever heard of you referring to yourself as a professor." A statement that had not fully explained to Snape why that might invoke mirth.

"I'm pretty sure I have stated that fact, right from the beginning. From the moment I brought this issue to your attention," Snape recounted automatically.

"Yeah, but you didn't exactly… say it like you meant it," Lily insisted, so infuriatingly vague in her words.

Snape frowned, not entirely sure exactly what Lily meant. "Did you not believe me when I first claimed as such?"

"Oh don't be so literal." Lily rolled her eyes, brushing her damp hair aside in a dismissive motion. But her smile did not abate. "I just… like seeing you in this role. And it feels so real having you refer to yourself as _Professor._ " The sentiment was all well and good, but she simply put a little too much salacious emphasis on the end of that sentence.

"Don't you start on this again," Snape growled suddenly, feeling the heat creep up his neck.

But it was never Lily's style to desist when he squirmed. " _Pro-fes-sor,_ " she almost purred in her prurient voice, leaning in in a manner that invited his eyes upon every part of her that showed through her imperfectly tied bathrobes.

"I insist that you cease," Snape growled quite firmly, colouring brightly as he averted his eyes. "There are a few key words I do not need to associate with any semblance of arousal."

An unladylike snort tore through Lily's lips. "I graduated too soon! I should have stayed for one more year!"

"To torment me as I attempt to teach?" Snape asked, aghast by the very thought.

A thought Lily seemed to share but with very different consequences in her mind. "I would make the best student. Turn up for every class, stay back for extra lessons." Which was all well and good had she not given a suggestive wink. "Maybe earn a few extra points for Gryffindor?"

"I should think not," Snape proclaimed, aghast by the mere thought. "I will approve of none of that going on under my watch. I should certainly not tolerate that from my students," he growled, quite incensed at the thought. He had built up a reputation for being an utter flame snuffing curmudgeon when he last worked this job a life and a half ago and certainly never had to endure such bold-faced nonsense.

"Oh you certainly won't, but I guarantee you won't be able to herd the students to your corner of morals. I honestly don't see how you can stop it," Lily continued, the very picture of the problem student he had to deal with as part of his daily headache. The classic Gryffindor. "Considering how the secret of that wonderful room of imagination and privacy is going to be common knowledge. I happen to knew a few people, not naming any names, who turned that room into a hookup spot."

Snape scowled, having already considered this terrible reality he would be dealing with. "I don't doubt the quality of that room would become apparent quite quickly to those who would seek it for… immoral goings-on," Snape spat the words as if in distaste. "I planned my classes around the upper year's free periods to deny them." Because he expected no less from herding a school full of hormonal teenagers, especially now that he had a little more appreciation of that very phenomenon.

Lily looked utterly betrayed. "I was wrong, you're not going to be a cool teacher."

Snape's voice could not have been more sarcastic. "Passing up Divination in third year was a waste of your talent."

"Considering what we got up to in our last year, you shouldn't be one to judge," Lily continued, not at all considerate of the context of their own situation.

A situation that Snape invoked quite pointedly. "Never once within school walls."

"But I made you think about it," Lily insisted mercilessly. "Really, _really_ , think about it."

"All the more reason I should make it easier for them to resist such temptation," Snape retorted turning back to his parchment, quill in hand, with a note of finality. Then he muttering under his breath, more for his sake than hers. "And because if I am to spend a year in this cursed role, I do not want to spend it dealing with teen-aged pregnancy."

* * *

Training with the Order at Hogwarts would have to cease fairly soon with the looming start of the new school year. Snape took to his mandate faithfully, accepting his training tasks as he was given. He had been through such vigour only once before in a life no longer, but that had been enough to teach him of the value of physical conditioning.

Though he could not compare with the fitness of the likes of Potter and Black, or even Marlene, owing to their sporting dedication, he did far better than Pettigrew and Lupin. Which, if he paused to think about it, was honestly boasting that he was physically more capable than an institutionally unfit craven and a diseased creature who was near-infirm for several days a month.

At the very least he was improving, and if he were wise he'd know true improvement was only that of comparing to one's past self. Unfortunately he was also a teenager, and reason didn't always sit upon the throne of his mind. A fact he was slowly becoming more aware of. Perhaps that was also what wisdom was.

However, at this moment he could not find it in himself to value such sentiment when Lily insisted on tagging along to watch. Feeling his inability to keep up with the fitter members of his training corps a distinct failure on his part.

Despite not being an official Order member, Lily's presence in Order events had started becoming the accepted norm, even for the more conscientious members. When either of the Longbottoms had the class all secret society caution was thrown out the window. Being old friends of Lily's, they welcomed her presence with open arms. Of the real Aurors, however, it surprisingly wasn't Moody, but Edgar Bones who had the most to say about this arrangement.

"Excuse me, miss. But you are not a member of the Order and do not get to be here," he had told her the first day she tried to sneak into Snape's training session with Bones on duty.

Lily fixed him with a wide-eyed innocence. "I'm just here to cheer on my husband," she proclaimed, as if that was reason enough to allow just anyone in to watch the training program of a secret army.

That didn't exactly go over well with the strict Bones, but after verbose objections from every other Gryffindor present, and then a quick permission slip sent for, then ferried down from the headmaster's office via House Elf, Bones was worn down and his objections were sheathed back in his holster alongside his wand.

But Moody on the other hand, after satisfying himself with security concerns, did not seem to give a toss over Lily's presence. Even once insisting she have a go upon the training ground, before promptly pitting her against Snape in an impromptu duel. Needless to say, Snape had never been hobbled so in his methods. Though he had ultimately managed to harmlessly disarm his wife, he had forgotten the crucial fact that his wife needed no wand to bring magic to bear. He, on the other hand, found himself quite helpless quite quickly without his.

"Your weakness is as glaring as the apex sun," the gruff Auror had proclaimed as Snape found himself quickly put on the defensive. He hadn't been able to level a single spell against Lily, his mind rebelling at the mere thought of raising his wand against his beloved.

Snape scowled, burning red at that chastisement as he bent to retrieve his wand. "In most cultures its considered ill form to attack your wife," he muttered, but feeling less than absolved by his assertions.

"Then what if your enemies turn your wife against you?" Moody barked. "Spells aplenty exist to bend the will of the unwilling. You cannot afford to hesitate upon the duelling plains. Ever vigilance!"

Lily looked ever so pleased with herself, though she tried her best to hide it. But that cheek-filled smile was quickly wiped off her face when Moody ordered her off the training floor with a sharp bark. No doubt Lily had hoped she might finally find inclusion with the noble Order, only to find she had been used to prove a point. One that Snape did not appreciate in the least.

"If she were in such a situation where I must bring force to bear upon her, then I have already forfeited my right to victory," Snape growled, stowing away his wand into his sleeve pocket.

Moody set both bolt blue eyes boring into him, "Then I hope that your future foes the are the likes of Black and Pettigrew, for I hate wasting my time. And there is no greater waste of time than training dead men."

Snape scowled darkly as Sirius Black jumped in looked utterly affronted. "Why am I lumped in with Peter?" Black demanded. "I don't piss myself at the first sight of wand-fire."

If the Marauder had hoped for a placating response, then he learnt nothing from the month and a half under Moody's wing. "And you respond to wand-fire with a gormless abandon as you intercept it with your face. At least pissing yourself would have been a reaction."

Pettigrew made the mistake of sniggering before a dark look from Black sent him into submissive silence.

That was always the path Moody's lessons took. Always pushing upon the perceived weaknesses within his trainees. Never content to simply capitalise upon a strength. Ever vigilance in every respect it seemed.

Training day with Moody was in every way the exact opposite of what to expect from Edgar Bones. The man was as by-the-book as any law man could conceivably be, barring membership to this underground army.

"Right, you lot! Warm up!" Edgar would always bark the moment he marched into the room. His training sessions would always go through the same structured motions each time. Those who stood out in any particular activity only served to set the bar for everyone else to follow suit.

Duelling was a training tool he only infrequently allowed, and even then, only with the strictest of safety precautions. But even then, sometimes injuries occurred. More often still, when it was a duel between Snape and Potter.

Momentum Charms deployed the moment Potter was flung into the air, having been caught out by Snape's Knockback Jinx. But Snape too had not come out of that exchange unscathed. A burn wound its way down his arm, having been caught by a Fire-making Spell laid onto his sleeve without his notice. It seemed their frequent exchanges was beginning to teach that arrogant boy some semblance of subtlety.

The gap between them was shrinking, with Snape winning by smaller and smaller margins. As much as it galled him to admit it, both Potters he has met seemed have some considerable talent in the field of magical combat. It had been only over a month since training began, and already Potter was claiming small tokens of victory within their exchanges. Had this been true combat, Snape would not have had the time to tend to his wound, and as minor as it was, it could have made all the difference in an ongoing fight.

With a glower, Snape repaired the damage to his new robes. The thick, sturdy material took the repairing spell without a seam out of place. A grand difference between his new quality garb and his old spell-worn rags.

With his dignity sought to, Snape turned his wand to his injury. A simple surface burn, requiring only a simple healing spell. Due to the complexity of the human body, magic or muggle, most wizards and witches preferred the reliability of salves and potions to heal even the simplest of injuries, and honestly so did he. Healing spells relied on a grand knowledge of figure and form and a careful mastery of the transfigurative arts. Mistakes could be exceedingly costly. But for a simple burn upon his skin, Snape had skill enough to treat.

He turned his wand between his finger, tracing around the burn, muttering the incantation to the complex spell under his breath. The redness receded, as did the pain. One of the simplest of all the healing spells, but the most he was capable of confidently.

"Good to know you can get yourself back into working order," Bones grunted as he marched past through the duelling floor. "But I'll appreciate if you did not deal injuries that did not take seconds to fix."

Snape followed the Auror's eyes to the form of James Potter, leaning heavily against the wall as he braced his shoulder with a wince.

Snape sneered at his rival's pain, but felt no satisfaction accompanying. He turned away, the oddness of this moment took him by surprise. The hatred he had for James Potter burned still in his heart, but not the desire to see him harmed or wish upon him grievous ill. That malice was there no longer.

And instead there was guilt for dealing injury when there was no need to.

A scowl split his face as he found himself unable to meet those earnest green eyes of his wife who came to his side to see to his welfare. Once upon a time, in another lifetime, her primary concern would have been for that boy he so loathed. Instead now, by Potter's side was another girl, Marlene McKinnon, who in a previous life had no such distinction to Snape's knowledge. A further reminder how their fates had divulged.

Perhaps this should be enough for him to lay his old hurts to rest…

A gentle hand laid upon his repaired sleeve. "Sev," Lily urged, pulling him out of his miring thoughts. "Are you hurt?"

Snape lifted his sleeve to reveal the absence of his injury. "I'm fine," he muttered, turning his eyes unwittingly to his far more injured rival. "But he's not."

Lily left his side then, turning her concern to Potter. There was a momentary rush of hatred, an irrational anger that emerged from his fears. Fears that were no longer was founded but had been so real a lifetime ago.

"James! Are you okay?" Lily called as she stepped up to his side, standing shoulder to shoulder with her best friend who was pushed aside by the impatient Auror.

"It's a small fracture," Bones declared as he quickly cast an invisible but firming Holding Spell to splint about Potter's arm before directing him towards the seats with a rough touch. "McKinnon!" the Auror barked, calling his third trainee to attention. "Head down to fetch Poppy. And apologise for disturbing her time off." McKinnon jumped to action, trotting out the door in short order.

Potter was deposited upon the bench lining the side of the room, next to which Lily sat, lavishing him with her too-kind concerns.

Snape felt the scowl bear upon his features, but was thankfully not given long to dwell.

"Snape," Bones' sharp voice commanded his attention, "You're not injured, nor set to a task. So don't dally like some slack-jawed fool. Work on your wand-work!"

* * *

"How bad is it?" Lily asked with concern as James sat slumped against the wall. "I mean it's broken so I know it's bad… I guess it's a stupid question, sorry."

James grinned his familiar cocky grin, but the effect was tempered somewhat by his pale clammy skin. "I've had worse. From a bludger for one."

Lily sighed, shaking her head as she turned her sight wearily upon her husband, already set furiously into some complex offensive spell sets against a stationary dummy target with a target painted upon its chest and a smile upon its tin head.

"Why do you boys have to go so hard at it? This isn't a real battle. You didn't have to injure each other."

"If we don't treat this seriously, how can we possibly be ready in the real world?" James remarked quite earnestly despite the pain of the situation. "Snape's doing me a real service kicking my ass every day. If I had walked out there without knowing how lacking I really was, I'd be dead and buried by week's end."

"But it just seems so… excessive," Lily muttered, turning her eyes back on the ailing boy. "I swear injuries weren't occurring this frequently before. Did something happen between you?" She just barely avoided adding "again." to the end of that question, because none of the parties involved needed a reminder of what sort of bad blood had always existed between them.

But James simply grinned, "That just means I'm getting better, and giving him a harder time," he leaned back against the wall, frown etched into his brow, whether in pain or frustration Lily could not tell. "And I'm trying. How I am trying. I even went out and bought myself a wand-holster, just like the Aurors," he gestured to the leather strap upon his belt. "Marlene and Sirius too. A slight advantage in wand-draw. Anything to give us an edge and keep alive, you know."

Lily turned her attention back to Sev, watching him assault the target with a flurry of spells both so fierce and impressively accurate that even the hard to please Auror Bones seemed solemnly impressed. "I can't even imagine… what you're all preparing for." Was this what combat is to be like? This heated exchange of spellfire, with far more fatal consequences to be had? Were the vicious efforts both boys were putting in, only to be the prelude to the carnage to come?

Lily shook where she sat, suddenly unable to fathom it all. She was sitting upon the sidelines while the world around her rocked against an oncoming storm.

"I should be there..." she muttered, causing the boy beside her to glance sidelong. "I should be facing this alongside you all."

"You should be allowed to, yeah," James agreed without a moment's hesitation, but a sheepish grin emerged from his paled pained expression. "But if truth be told… I get where Snape's coming from. I don't want to see you hurt either."

Lily rounded on him, her eyebrows furrowed in immediate offence. "Excuse me? Your girlfriend is preparing for battle beside you."

"And I don't want her here," he confessed, suddenly and unexpectedly. "The danger is seeming more real by the day. When we all joined… when we all decided to do this, it was just some noble dream on the horizon, wasn't it? We all had grand dreams of fighting the good fight..." he winced, no doubt jolting his injury with his fervent words. "But… since hearing about the war from the inside… since hearing the tales the Aurors had to tell..." He shook his head slowly, careful not to jolt his injury, "It's no game. I get it now. We might die, or worse. I get it now. Perhaps Snape was the only one that got it from the beginning..."

Lily stared for a moment more, before giving a weak chuckle. "This is the first time I've ever heard you express any form of doubt." Her smile receded. "I never thought I'd hear that from you..." And it scared her all the more for it.

James winced again, but perhaps not from his pain alone. "I just wish Marlene..." he dropped his eyes, lips pulled downwards as if in frustration. "I just wish…" Lily stared with concern as James let out a slow breath, mired with frustration.

"Did something happen?" Lily asked, her eyes wide with realisation and concern.

James closed his eyes and slowly nodded, his brows creasing with more concern that Lily had ever seen of him. "There was an outbreak of Dragon Pox at the Alchemy Conference this year..." he murmured. "My parents..."

"Oh no," Lily whispered, her heart leaded with dread.

Dragon Pox was a scourge within the magical world, brought by contact with dragons who carried the disease harmlessly. Though rarely fatal within the population of the young and healthy, it could very quickly strike down the elderly and the very young.

With a sigh, James slumped against the wall, bracing his injured side carefully against the stonework. "I don't know how long they have. They seem to be getting worse by the day…" He turned to her with a wan smile. Never before had Lily seem him look so helpless. "I don't even have siblings… I want to take care of them. I want to be there for them. But with everything that's going on, I just feel so… selfish..."

"There's nothing selfish about wanting to care of your family!" Lily declared, suddenly and earnestly. "There's nothing selfish about wanting to spend time with them before they are gone!"

Those hazel eyes met hers, those furrowed brows relaxing a fraction. "You would know, wouldn't you?" he muttered, a tired smile touching his handsome face.

Lily returned the smile sadly. Though the memory of her father, and mother, still pained her, time had dulled that barb. "We never appreciate them enough until they are no longer there."

"It's inevitable as time itself," James agreed, pulling up straight despite the pain.

Silence fell between them as Lily turned her eyes away, back to the training floor where Severus was toiling. Even from the distance, she could see the sweat roll down his brows, his movements still sharp and spellwork crisp despite his taxed body.

"After my dad died, I was so afraid of being alone," Lily confessed, sitting up suddenly as if trying to shake off the strangling emotions. "I knew I still had my friends, I knew Sev would still be there… but..." she sighed, a lump in her throat. "I felt like I just needed to know I had family. And even though Sev and I were engaged, it didn't feel… enough."

"So that's why you married him so suddenly." James nodded, a slow careful motion. "I had wondered…"

"I think now my one greatest regret is that we didn't marry sooner. That my dad didn't get to be there, to walk me down the aisle. Your parents are still alive, so maybe you and Marlene..." Lily suddenly stopping with a wince at how intrusive it all sounded. "Sorry, I know it's none of my business."

James glanced upwards, his hazel eyes meeting hers wide and startled, but before he could reply, as if summoned, Marlene appeared with Madam Pomfrey in tow. "Sorry I took so long Jamie," she puffed as she stepped out of the way of the matron. "I had a run in with Peeves. That half-bit poltergeist thought it'd be funny to trip me into the trick step. If it weren't for Nearly Headless Nick helping me fetch Pomfrey I might still be stuck there."

"Your perception is terribly lacking," Bones barked, startling the girl with his sudden appearance and proving his point. "If you can still be caught by surprise by a clumsy poltergeist, I don't care for your chances in the real world," he criticised quite harshly.

James' eyes turned his eyes upwards with concern, and for the briefest moment fear shone upon his face as clear as day, but then it was gone as pain replaced it as his magical splint was roughly dispelled.

"Carefully!" Madam Pomfrey ordered sharply with a withering glare to the gruff Auror. It seemed her disapproval could make the hardiest of men squirm.

Lily withdrew to give the matron more space, stepping back from the sudden huddle of bodies. She turned to find her husband lingering on the other side of the room. Upon her attention he glanced away, as if he feared his attention might be mistaken for concern.

* * *

A/N: Snape is surprisingly good with giving career advice. It's almost as if he's done it before...

A/N: Apologies for the tardiness. Did not expect to go in to work so early, or come off so late.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and cookeroach for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 4th May 2019 AEDT.

 **Chapter 59: Once More to his Post**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


	59. Once More to his Post

**Chapter 59: Once More to his Post**

Lily had never known what the castle was like before the beginning of a new school year. It was the weekend before September when Lily visited for the final training day for the Order recruits.

The increased activity was instantly noticeable the moment she stepped through the Entrance Hall doors. House Elves swarmed quite visibly on every floor; classrooms were being prepped, materials were being shifted, class room stores were receiving final audits. The castle itself seemed alive with the stones of the walls and floor seeming to tremble with the activity, preparing itself for the intake of a hundred new students, and several hundred more returning.

The school start fell on a Friday this year, meaning the lucky little tykes got to start the year on a weekend. Free time to socialise and explore, to find their feet in the castle that was to be their home for the next seven years.

Before she knew it, Lily was swept up in the excitement of it all. The prospect of a new school year and all that it entailed, before remembering very suddenly that she was not to be one of the returning students. That brought her mood down very quickly.

A similar sort of mood was upon Severus, Lily noted, upon catching sight of him just by chance in the hallway. Severus had left early that morning, earlier than he would usually leave for his training sessions. He came to make his last preparations for his classes, no doubt, and he could not look less enthusiastic if he tried.

"One might be forgiven to think you were going to a funeral," Lily joked as she trotted level to his stride, startling him by her unannounced appearance.

Sev's scowl receded a fraction, a compliment in and of itself. "I didn't even have the time to forget how much I hate this place."

"With your memory, that could take centuries," Lily returned, all smiles and sunshine, and was rewarded with nought but Sev's scowls of gloom and misery.

They ascended the Grand Staircase, the shifting stairs swivelling about actively as if rehearsing for a role as the least efficient version of a climbing aid, magical or mundane. They actually had to stop three times to wait for the stairs to pick them up or drop them off on the right flight.

Severus seemed determined to mire himself in misery over the occasion, but after a long stretch of suffering in silence, he finally saw fit to give Lily the first reason to find the coming event less celebratory. "I won't be able to live at home for a week at the very least. The first few nights are harrowing for some. And it won't do as Head of House to be difficult to access for those that need support."

Lily's green eyes widened at the thought, a realisation she hadn't before considered about this role.

"What's more, when I do return home, I must always be on call for anything within my House requiring my attention. There will always be a few nights when I'm in and out of bed, disturbing rest for the both of us."

That made sense, knowing how often McGonagall had to be called into the Gryffindor Common room to take care of one disaster or another, especially in the years where there were less industrious members among their prefects. "And here I thought Slytherins were supposed to be less of a handful," Lily muttered, suddenly less enthused by the prospect.

"Oh, believe me, I'm counting my blessings that I do not have the responsibility of those trouble-making, headache-inducing Gryffindors," Severus supplied most scathingly as they stepped past the portrait that would be housing the very rascals he bemoaned.

"Excuse me. You do remember you married one, right?" Lily gasped with mock affront.

Severus glanced, as if appraising her response before delivering his own. "Your example proves my point. Need I remind you of how, even knowing full well that there was a werewolf on the loose, you still decided the full moon was the best time for a romantic lakeside stroll?"

Lily could not help the giggles that ruined her mock affront. "Figures. Pick the night of our first kiss to complain about."

A smile touched Severus' face, that gentle one that was meant only for her. "That somehow feels like a lifetime ago..." Then he grimaced, as if somehow finding the notion ridiculous enough to warrant reaction.

They stepped up to the familiar stretch of unassuming wall opposing that eccentric portrait of dancing trolls. The last time they would attend this exercise in this location, perhaps in general as well. Severus was, after all, going into a full-time career with a workload that did not permit enough free time to even return home for the evenings. Their household was about to become quiet indeed, not that Severus was rowdy to begin with.

And though Lily would have to get used to his absence and the bite of loneliness an empty household would inevitably bring her, she could not help but feel the uprush of relief at the thought of Severus being spared the role of a front-line combatant. He had promised her as such several nights before, when she had finally confessed the anxiety nibbling upon the back of her mind. When James, the bold and brash and ever self-assured boy had confessed his uncertainties, upsetting Lily's own Gryffindor confidence in the matter.

Because until then she hadn't really thought about it like a true life-and-death scenario. It had been all heroic fantasies of righteous endeavours like the tales where the hero triumphs and the evil falls. She hadn't been invited to the Order meetings, and as such had never been privy to the true goings-on within the war. The terrible news and events that had cemented even the cocky James Potter in reality. Even a whisper of the real deal had managed to rattle the very foundations of her confidence. The bane of being stuck on the outside was knowing that all her friends were to face this, that her husband was going to face this, and all she could do was wring her hands and wait for news.

When she had confessed this all to Severus, laid it all down upon him in a blubbering rush, unable to discern her tears from frustration or fear, he had hushed her with simple reasoning.

"I do not think Dumbledore would be so short sighted as to risk the Head of House that he had hired on specifically to manage the Death Eater problem at its roots," he had said as he prepared for bed that evening.

"But all this training," Lily babbled on as her fingers worried the sheets blanketed about her, hungry for reassurance. "All this duelling prep work!"

"-Will be a valuable asset to my Defence lessons, I'm sure. In fact, I believe I will be the first appointed in decades with any form of real training in the matter." Sev didn't even look the least bit concerned over the possibility.

His confidence had softened the spurs upon her mind, and though they hadn't spoke of it again since, time had dulled those thoughts greatly. And now, after realising what sort of schedule he'd be living off as a Professor, she felt quite silly to have lent that concern credence at all.

But all it meant was one less person to concern herself over, when there were many more to fear for.

As she stood in that room, every familiar face was already present within. The last training session was a gathering of all new recruits, even those who had been explicitly allocated a non-combat role. Every person she had left to fear for, and everyone she could possibly lose.

How many of them would still be here in a year's time?

James and Sirius stood front and centre of the floor, trading wand-fire at a more casual pace than either of the Aurors would have approved, likely for Black's benefit. They would be front and fore of the battles to come. Remus stood in solemn observation of his two friends, quiet and detached. Lily knew Remus had been given a special mission, one that took him away from the conflict. The thought brought Lily considerable measure of relief, but whatever they had him doing he didn't look half as chuffed. Dorcas Meadow sat in the corner with Peter, both were in support roles. Though the clever Ravenclaw girl had known her place since the beginning, having since been taken on by St Mungos as a healer in training and thus bringing her developing skills to the advantage of the Order, the latter had been shifted into a similar position in light of his poor combat performance, on the recommendation of Dumbledore at that. Then there was Marlene…

Her best friend, and the one person outside her immediate family that Lily feared for most of all.

She was most quiet today, quieter than Lily could ever remember seeing her. She watched from a bench the boys duel in the centre, no outward emotion upon her face, but her silence spoke volumes.

Lily detached herself from Severus' side as he made his way to the centre of activity. An odd sight, having him willingly move himself to the vicinity of James and Black, two boys whose company Sev had once ardently avoided at all costs.

"You worried?" Lily asked as she sat down upon the bench, right up against her best friend. Unlike Sev, Marlene never had a comfort zone to worry about.

Marlene turned, "Do I look worried?"

"Well this is the first time you looked anywhere but at Jamie-boy since I got in so yeah, I think you look worried," Lily replied, then added, "and believe me, I know what you are going through."

Marlene smiled a small grateful smile, before shaking her head. "I don't think you do."

Lily paused, realising how dumb her assertions had been. Their situation could not be more vastly different. Lily was not going to face life and death alongside her amour, her anxieties were selfish luxuries behind protected walls.

But before Lily could deliver a conceding response, Marlene continued, "I mean you probably think it's all about butterflies in the stomach over everything that's been happenin', Lil's. Well it ain't about that. Can't be more raring to go stick it to them sick freaks."

"Be careful Marlene. This isn't a game," Lily beseeched nervously. If there was a poster-child for Gryffindor recklessness, it would go in the order of James, Sirius then Marlene, the three who were actually going directly into danger.

Lily couldn't help but shudder in her seat at worry of it all. Knowing where her friends were headed, and what they were facing, and knowing all too well there was not a damned thing she could possibly do about it.

By comparison, Marlene looked positively meditative over the prospect of facing death and the legions of depravity and evil. Instead, it was obvious the concern that was riding her haled from another table of frustrations.

"You sound just like James," Marlene grumbled unexpectedly, for that was sentiment not what was expected from someone Lily had just ranked higher on the recklessness scale. "He just came around one afternoon, and when he was just around for a social visit he just starts going off about how I should protect myself and think 'bout my own safety and going on like a bloody ninny. He even got the balls to ask me to drop out into a non-combat role." Lily tried her best not to wince, realising where those sentiments might have emerged from. "Then, he asked me to marry him!"

It took another moment more for Lily's face to catch up with what was said. "Oh by Merlin's grace. Are you two-?"

"-and I said no." Marlene winced as Lily visibly shrunk back with surprise. "We were fighting, and… he just sprung it out of nowhere." She shrunk in on herself, shaking her head with a wince. "So umm… I guess we're… still fighting..."

"Oh Marlene," Lily muttered as she pulled her best friend into an embrace. Her heart hurt for her best friend, guilt prickling at her neck over her own role in sowing the seeds for such a terrible turn of fate. "I'm so sorry. Are you alright?"

"Yeah. Just peachy," Marlene muttered with a sniff, not convincing anyone. "I mean we haven't exactly sat and hashed everything out over tea..." she mumbled, glancing back over to the duelling floor where James was listening so very attentively as Sev critiqued him in his no doubt scathing way.

"I'm sorry," Lily offered again, as inadequate as her words may be. "I think it was me. I was the one who put that whole idea in his head," she confessed, utterly devastated with contrition. Marlene turned her blue eyes back upon her, hooded and weary. "That wasn't the context I was pitching it in though. We were talking about his parents..."

"Dragon Pox," Marlene confirmed, her tone muted, whether by sadness over the thought or anger over the admission Lily could not tell.

"I had said that I regretted not marrying before my dad had died…" Lily's voice died, too ashamed by her own meddling. "I'm sorry, Marlene."

Her best friend gave a great sigh, a long and defeated sound. "I think it's about time I saw to my responsibility as a best friend to give you some hard truths," she paused dramatically as Lily all but flinched. "You give terrible advice."

That was a sentiment Lily could wholeheartedly agree with at this moment in time. "Sorry," she muttered, head still bowed.

"You better be," Marlene agreed, but her voice was light on accusation. "This was definitely not the way I saw my proposal coming. He and I will need to have a strong talk over how expectations were not met."

Relief touched Lily's heart. "I'll keep my meddling to a minimum from now on," she offered, a poor retroactive commitment in face of disaster she might have wrought.

"Me and Jamie'll just have to sort things through. Like adults," Marlene conceded unexpectedly with a long-drawn sigh. "Goodness knows we haven't really talked anything serious. Not since his mum and pops caught the pox. We've just been steering each other in circles from thinking too hard." She then leaned forward, bracing herself against her knees as she cast her eyes again towards the training boys. "Who knows, maybe this time'll be a blessing too," Marlene muttered, unexpectedly and smiling. "After all, me and Jamie all started with you and your big mouth getting me in the bog."

A smile touched Lily's lips as she cast her eyes towards the training circle, content with the conclusion that came with the silence between the two of them. Foolish habits that brought malady in childhood she had still yet to grow out of, but it seemed her best friend had all but grown into forgiveness.

Of the two of them, the crown of maturity was no longer a dead-set given.

* * *

Though Snape had loathed the company, he could not help but feel a touch of melancholy over stepping forth from the training session knowing it was to be his final one. It wasn't that he enjoyed improving fitness, or health, or would miss the occasional praise coming from Aurors from whom it was high laudation indeed. It was the knowledge that with his training's end, came the depressing loom of his inevitable employment. As if mimicking his mood, the summer rains blotted out the sun, dousing the countryside with a greatly needed dose of moisture and tempering the heat with a dose of relief.

He had several days before he had first to step into his role officially; several days of headache free bliss. The last days he could spend frivolously in desired company, before his tireless duties would suffocate him. Perhaps once he welcomed the hours this line of work demanded of him, if not the company that was forced upon him, but that was before he had real reason to wish for personal time. When before, unoccupied time was filled with naught but loneliness and regrets, he had no longer a single want to be fulfilled. How differently things had turned out with this second chance.

But as with all good things, it was coming to an end. And the first of such heralds was the summoning to the school in an official capacity. The first staff meeting of the year, held a mere two days before the beginning of another school year. And with it, the first opportunity for Snape to meet those that were to become his colleagues. Or one should really put it, the opportunity for his colleagues to meet him, for he had already had a fair measure of familiarity with those faces beyond his own schooling years. And a vast majority of them, he respected.

Perhaps that was why he conceded so easily to Lily's ministrations, allowing her to put him before a mirror and fuss over his hair. She had arisen early that morning specifically for this purpose, despite it being a work day for her too, sacrificing her own sleep and prep time to bring some decency to his appearance.

For the sake of that all-important first impression, she spent the better part of an hour wrestling a brush through his thick mane, tugging quite sharply on a tangled strand and causing him to wince. "You would be in a lot less pain if you just brushed your hair daily."

"I would also be in a lot less pain if you used magic rather than muggle techniques," Snape grumbled, not altogether earnest in his complaints. It was not altogether an unpleasant sensation, and one that he would have forfeited had she chosen to use impersonal magic rather than the intimacy of a brush.

But despite her protests, Snape had been spending more time on untangling his hair in recent days. Magically, of course, for he could not see himself ever caring so much as to spend the time she was willing to sink into manually separating each strand. It wasn't a conscious decision to do so, but he had found himself tending to his appearance more and more.

It was Lily's influence; he had no doubt of that. Little flirtatious comments over his improved physique, moments when he caught her admiring him. He was beginning to think of himself a far simpler creature than he had once believed.

It was when he felt Lily's hands pull back did he crack his eyes open once more, emerging from his dozing contentment. His reflection glared back at him, hair struck into a loose ponytail, with shorter strands draping down behind his ears in an engineered casual cascade. A style no doubt intended to look far more effortless than it had honestly been.

He stood, allowing his black teaching robes to pull straight upon him. Garbs reminiscent of what he once wore, sans the two bright silver spots upon his sleeves. He would get comments about it, no doubt, sniggers behind his back over such sentimental design, but he found himself surprisingly comfortable over this shameless display of his affections.

It was a compromise between him and Lily, and one he had found himself now regarding quite favourably. For it was a symbol of everything he had gained, and only now, when he was finally able to look back upon his life in contentment, did he finally find it in himself to not find shame in his own heart. Though others might mock him for everything they thought lacking, he could finally feel content over knowing he lacked nothing worth having.

The face staring back at him in the mirror was one younger than he had ever remembered, far younger looking than the child he had woken up as one fateful September morning all those years ago. For the years had never marred his face more than his own demons had, and the lines that carved those deep shadows that had adorned his darkened visage were of his own creation. Old and bitter by the age of twenty-one, he had never been a young man since.

"Aren't you handsome," came that complimentary comment from his wife, once so out of place that it bordered on mockery. But now things were so different, not just with his appearance, but with his life and contentment that he could finally find it in himself to accept it as more than just platitude. No matter how imperfect his life might have been, or frustrating his days to come, Lily loved him, and that thought alone would be enough to carry him through it all.

With a smile he turned to his wife, only to have her step away with her hand held up. "I forgot, I got you something!" She darted into her side of the wardrobe, digging into the curtain of multicoloured robes that had accumulated on her side since Snape's first pay had come through. Their finances had eased considerably compared to when they first started out in this life together, and it had in no small parts been down to Lily's job getting them through the tough first few weeks. But Snape's first pay pouch brought an end to their need for austerity.

Other than securing his meals and potion needs, and perhaps the occasional tailoring fee, Snape had very little need for spending. Even more so in his previous life, when isolation was all that he had to return to, he could find very little to spend his pay on. He had died with a mound of gold to his name, and very little else to show for his life.

That Lily had wants to spend on was only a good thing in Snape's eyes. That she had sense enough to wait until they were comfortable was everything he could have asked of her. And that she wished to spend on him he could not be more grateful for. Except…

"Did you buy me clothing again?" Snape asked, a little apprehensively. Their division in taste and in style could not be more obvious than their garbs hanging side by side.

"Oh, have a little faith in me," came Lily's muffled reply as she emerged from the hanging garbs with a great dark cut of cloth in hand. "I mean I did, but I have some sense of your fashion now." With a flick she unfurled the garment, revealing a sweeping cloak of fine wool. "For those chilly evenings in that draughty old dungeon."

Snape stepped forward, accepting the gift, turning the garb over in his hands as he cast an eye about it. Thick and heavy, and black as midnight, but almost immediately colour caught his eye. An embroidered pattern of a green and silver weave that entwined down the edge of the two centre folds that would hang over his shoulder and trail down his front.

"Green for Slytherin, and silver for us, wound together to hang over your heart…" Lily trailed off before wincing. "I mean it made sense to me at the time…"

Snape shrugged on the cloak, the mantle settling upon his shoulders and falling over his form. The front folds fell forward to reveal the patterns, designed never to be hidden.

It was no longer his nature to hide this part of his heart.

"Thank you, Lily," Snape offered earnestly.

Lily raised a suspicious eyebrow. "What really? Just like that? No complaints about decorations and colour?"

Snape smiled, turning to acknowledge himself in the mirror, the new man that he was. "I will cherish it."

"Good. Because otherwise the holster wouldn't match," Lily announced, as she produced at a verbal summoning, a harness of soft-brown prime leather. Thin and narrow, and trimmed with silvers and green, it was a make not designed for waist-wear.

"A wand-holster for the forearm?" Snape asked, as he reached for the object to turn it about his hands. The leather was soft but sturdy, true quality that even when he could afford it, he had never treated himself to.

"A duelling holster, like the ones the Aurors have, only for the wrist instead of the waist," Lily proclaimed, really just explaining what Snape had already observed.

Snape unfastened his cuff buttons and rolled up his narrow sleeves, revealing his pale forearm. Lily stepped forth to assist him with the straps as he slipped the harness about his forearm, feeling the form of the soft leather press against his unadorned skin as the straps tightened. It was hidden from view as he slipped his sleeves back in place. His clothes were made not to reveal what lay beneath it by design. A waste of the patterned design perhaps, but he valued subtlety before all else.

He had never owned a holster in his past life, having always attributed it to showboating Gryffindors and Aurors aiming to intimidate. He believed himself a fast draw, no matter where he stowed his wand. Indeed, after his appointment in Hogwarts, he rarely had need to draw it against anyone but a student. Even then, he usually had it pre-drawn and hidden up his sleeve, to flick out at a moment's notice. This holster was designed to do that very motion.

Snape slipped his wand into the thin enchanted holster, designed to hold the wand in place until he beckoned it forth with a gesture, having it appear in his hand without a wasted motion. A fraction faster than he would have drawn otherwise.

"You like it?" Lily asked as she stepped back, wide-eyed and expectant.

Snape flexed his forearm, observing how the leather felt upon his skin. It was a subtle form, not discomforting, less intrusive than he had ever thought it'd feel. "It was most unexpected, but appreciated," Snape replied, causing her face to fall. "I meant I very much appreciate it, Lily. It is not something I would have bought for myself."

"An edge in wand-draw," Lily murmured, almost as if talking to herself as she passed her eyes down his sleeve, "perhaps it might one day… keep you safe."

A heartfelt sentiment Snape felt in his very core.

* * *

It had been two years since Snape had last stepped foot in the staffroom, but it was truly a lifetime ago. When before the silence that met his entry had been saturated with accusations and malcontent, this time the atmosphere was simply that of polite hesitation.

It had been mere months since Snape had walked these very halls as a student, and now he returned as a member of staff. Nobody had had the time to adjust.

Dumbledore stood from the head of a long table, along which the caucus sat. "Ah, Severus, welcome. So good of you to show in such a timely manner." He turned to those who were already present, settled down the long table. "I don't believe introductions will be necessary for most who are quite familiar with our recently graduated, I'm certain. But for those of us who did not have the pleasure of teaching Mr Snape, allow me to introduce him." Snape internally cringed at all the eyes that fixed upon him, and the looks of surprise and recognition elicited from some of the less news-savvy members. "Mr Snape is to be heading the Defence Against the Dark Arts Faculty and taking over as the Head of Slytherin as Horace edges ever closer to the retirement he desires."

Nobody argued that point, but sharp looks filled with doubt and unspoken questions were exchanged up and down the table. Snape tried his best not to revert to self-consciousness as he unslung his cloak and handed it to the enchanted rack by the door that extended a hook to take it.

A seat appeared by the end of the table, along which the Heads of House were to sit, right beside Minerva McGonagall. Snape had no doubt that was where he was intended, but it did not do to presume. "May I?" he asked as he approached the seat.

Dumbledore gestured in affirmation, and Snape sat swiftly before more attention could be drawn. Minerva shifted her seat, perhaps to give him more space at the table, but all Snape could think of was the vicious words they had parted on.

" _Coward!"_

There were still several minutes to be had before the meeting was scheduled to be underway, and a few key members of the faculty were not yet present. Snape wondered if this might have been one of those times he should have ignored his impulse to be forever punctual and arrived fashionably late instead, preferably on the cloak tails of the perpetually tardy Horace so that he could use the man's bulk to his concealing advantage.

"Mr Snape, is it?" came the enquiry from down the table. The wizened face of a bespectacled man peered intently from several chairs across. "I had foreseen our meeting, but I confess it was not completely within prediction. The crystal appeared confused as to which subject you would be teaching, as well as which year you would be joining, but all the same the dictations of fate makes it feel as if we've already met." He extended a hand to shake, almost across McGonagall's lap. "Marcus Karol of the Divinations faculty."

Ironically, out of all the professors sitting at the table, the Divination Professor was the one man Snape had the least to do with, having retired and been replaced by that borderline fraud, Trelawney, at the same time Snape had taken over from Slughorn.

Snape took the hand and gave it a brief up and down so not to accidentally molest the professor stuck between the two of them. "Pleasure."

"I had heard you were young, but just graduated? Mercy me," a query came from across the table. Another one of the muggle-obsessed ginger-brigade from that all too extensive family, and another that Snape had very little to do with in both this life and the last. "Robert Weasley's the name," the professor proclaimed unnecessarily, "or Bobby as everyone here knows me as. I teach muggle studies, a more fascinating subject than most give it credit for."

As co-workers, they had spent their entire time together adamantly avoiding each other. Snape because he was Snape, and Weasley because of the known implications of Death Eater service. Though that life had been well behind Snape, the righteous muggle-lover had never been able to forgive the once-Death Eater for the no doubt innumerable deaths of the vulnerable and magicless implicated under his name. A stalemate that persisted until the man retired to moonlight in the muggle world as whatever the muggle equivalent to a goblin was, and was replaced by Quirinus Quirrell, a man who brought his own bag of woes in the shape of a turban.

This time around it seemed the Professor was not in the least bit hesitant on interactions, leaning straight over the desk to shake him by his unoffered hand.

"Oh, he'll be well aware, Bobby my boy," came Slughorn's booming voice as the man's great bulk pushed into a far too small a chair down at the other end of the table, "He married one after all. My best student at that. How is Lily, by the way."

"Settling in," Snape answered, still instinctively defensive from the brief exchange of words with a man who he could not help but remember as being ardently hostile.

With the arrival of the consistently tardy professor, their numbers were made and Dumbledore stood from his chair to begin proceedings. "I begin today with a quick account of our delivery load. I have not received an updated curriculum from you, Horace. I assume you're keeping your subject delivery identical to last year?" Dumbledore asked in a light tone but directed quite pointedly to that absurdly lazy potions master.

"Why of course, Albus. Why change a good thing?" Slughorn quipped back, not in the least abashed over the disregard in which he held his subject.

But true to form, Dumbledore did not hold the man to account, choosing to simply smile and direct his attention elsewhere. "As for your subject delivery schedule, Cuthbert, I've taken the liberty to transcribe from ectoplasm to vellum. Another riveting year of endless Goblin Rebellions."

"As so," the ghostly Professor Binns acknowledged in his monotone voice, floating a few feet above the chair that was allocated to him needlessly.

With a sharp clap of his hands, Dumbledore beamed, "Wonderful. Anything else anybody wish to add before we start?"

"I do," McGonagall suddenly spoke from beside Snape. "I understand the need of this year's rearrangement of our teaching caucus, but I worry for the role you have been thrust into, Severus Snape." He felt those green cat-like eyes bore into him. "You must know of how often misfortune befall those who enter this position, and seventeen is far too young to risk such life and limb."

Had it been from anyone else, Snape would have thought such words were derision masked as concern. Minerva McGonagall was one of the few in Snape's life he trusted to offer sincerity at face value. He turned slightly, offering the stern woman a slight nod in acknowledgement. "Your concerns I have shared, and as such have taken precautions against. This is why I helped draft a one-year contract, the first of its kind ever imposed upon a professor in this country."

"And you will hedge your life upon its protection from a jinx that had claimed so many else throughout the years?" McGonagall pressed, her lips pressed together in a thin line of concern.

"At the very least, we will know by the end of the year if it worked, Professor McGonagall," Snape declared with a tone of finality.

McGonagall did not press further, instead turning her concerned gaze to Dumbledore, who acknowledged it with a nod and a small smile, evidently not the answer the Transfigurations professor was after as she turned her eyes beseechingly to the ceiling.

"If this must be so, then at the very least we should cease with formalities." The transfiguration professor turned once more to the young man beside her. "Henceforth we are co-workers, so Minerva will do."

* * *

Great winds lashed the stones of the castle that night of September's beginning. A hundred and fifty young students filed into the great hall, gaping with awe as their gaze swept the enchanted ceiling.

Chattering and laughter filled the halls as anticipation for this yearly ritual built. The benches of the four great tables lined with returning students with enough space on the end of each for the new blood to join their ranks.

Young eyes kept turning Snape's way. Of all the students who were returning this year, none would be oblivious to Snape's identity and few to his appointment. Curiosity took to the air in the form of whispers not quiet enough to be lost within the bustle of atmosphere and noise.

Snape had altogether dreaded this day and the attention he would no doubt garner, for his past had been filled with the mockery of children. He had dreaded those stares, those whispers, laughter pointed and cruel. He had thought himself prepared.

But that was not what he received this night. Admiration he had never known beamed up at him from those that sat below. Children who stared and pointed did so with joy and excitement upon their faces. So many of the youths in Slytherin stared up at him with such fierce pride. At the very fore of the table was one prefect beaming with unabashed relief. Lincoln Rawkas would not have the struggle he so feared this year.

McGonagall stepped forth then, hand held in hush, and a hush that did fall. Those young anticipating eyes turned from Snape then to the crowd of first years standing who huddled by the entrance, shivering in their boots over the attention directed their way. The Gryffindor professor then stepped aside to reveal to them a stool, upon which sat the artefact that would decide the fate of their next seven years within the walls of this magical castle.

* * *

A/N: The new year at Hogwarts finally begins. So begins the second reign of Professor Snape.

A thank you to my Beta readers Sattwa100 and cookeroach for your work on this chapter.

Next Update: Saturday 11th May 2019 AEDT.

 **Chapter 60: Fear to Live Life**

Disclaimer: I do not own the Harry Potter universe and do not seek to profit in any way, shape or form from this fan work.


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